


ti amo, je t'aime, te amo

by inhobbok



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bonding Over Shared Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Movie Nights, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, an unhealthy amount of focus on hands (because it's gay), nancy knows some high school french, robin speaks four languages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-07-23 04:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inhobbok/pseuds/inhobbok
Summary: “D’you really speak three languages?”Nancy Wheeler. Perfect, prissy, Nancy Wheeler. Robin never really noticed her in high school. After Starcourt, it's difficult not to notice her—especially since she's spending an awful lot of time at the Family Video store these days.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On a somewhat serious note: as a lesbian myself, the lack of F/F fics in basically every fandom can be pretty disheartening and alienating. This is me creating content that I wanted to read: hopefully this is what someone else needs too.
> 
> couple of points before we get started: this takes place around the november after the events of season 3. for the purposes of this fic, robin & nancy have graduated school.

“D’you really speak three languages?”

It’s a slow day at Family Video. There’s one, maybe two customers milling around, browsing the various movies on offer. Robin is sitting on the counter, flipping through a magazine. Steve _was_ trying to alphabetise the VHS tapes, but he ended up with a bigger mess than before. He’s siting on the floor, legs crossed and looking up at Robin.

Robin closes the magazine and looks down at him. “ _Four_ languages, dingus. I speak English too.”

Steve screws up his nose at her. “Yeah, I said three _other_ languages.”

“No, you said, _d’you really speak three languages?_ ” Robin deepens her voice as she imitates him, putting on an ugly face for extra measure.

“Well, I meant other languages.”

Robin shrugs. “Yeah, I do. Italian, French, Spanish.”

“Really?”

“Oui. Si. Whatever.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “That’s sort of impressive.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, I know.” She glances at the short stacks of VHS tapes that surround him on the floor. He’s been at this since they started work in the morning. Methodically removing all the tapes from the shelves was achieved successfully, but he seems to be struggling with putting them back. He looks a bit lost. “Any luck?” Robin asks.

Steve shakes his head, frowning and holding _Friday the 13th_ against the shelf. “What comes first, G or F?”

“F, dingus.”

Steve slots it beside _Grease_. “I knew that. Just—testing.”

Robin grins and opens the magazine again. She’s reading a profile of Ally Sheedy. There’s a movie starring her called _St Elmo’s Fire_ that will be released soon. Robin figures that, as she works in a video store, she should keep on top of these things. Also, Ally Sheedy is rather pretty. Her hair is short and brown and frames her face like a halo. And her smile—it lights up the Family Video store like a beacon of light radiating off the page. God, she’s _so_ pretty.

Robin says as much to Steve, holding the magazine towards him. He squints at it. “Looks kind of like Nancy.”

“Nancy!” Robin snaps the magazine shut. “No she doesn’t. Ally Sheedy is _cool_. Did you see her in _The Breakfast Club_? Nancy Wheeler wouldn’t be caught _dead_ in that.”

“ _The Breakfast Club_?” Steve looks around at the piles and then holds up a tape. “This one?”

“Yeah.”

Steve looks at the cover. “Yeah, I see what you mean.” He looks up, grinning. “That nerd in the middle is the spitting image of you, though.”

Robin throws the magazine and it lands on its target. Steve splutters, grappling at it, then throws it back at her. They go on like this for a minute or two, before Robin’s terrible aim puts the magazine out of Steve’s reach. He’s too lazy to stand up to grab it, so it remains lying in front of the door.

Steve sighs and starts to stock the shelves again. “You should teach me some.”

“What, languages?”

“Yeah, teach me some French.” The VHS tapes are still on the floor rather than the shelves.

“Uh, what do you want to say?”

Steve waggles his eyebrows, or tries to at least. “Something to impress the ladies.”

Robin snorts. “Try, _je suis un imbécile_.” Robin’s line is cast, and Steve bites like it’s his last meal on earth.

“Je suis—wait, say it again but slower.”

Robin opens her mouth to oblige, but at that moment the door opens. They both look up. Nancy Wheeler walks in, rubbing her arms and looking somewhat uncomfortable. _A total priss_ , Robin thinks as she eyes Nancy’s perfect outfit and perfect hair, looking every bit the good girl that everyone knows she is. Nancy looks around at the store. Her eyes land on Steve, who jumps up to greet her.

“Nancy!” He bounds over and swipes the magazine from the ground. “Watch out, it’s a mess in here.”

“I can see,” Nancy says, looking around at the stacks and stacks of tapes. “I, uh, didn’t realise you worked here.”

Steve begins to clear a path to the counter for her. “Started a few weeks ago. With Robin.” He jabs his thumb at Robin, who waves awkwardly. Nancy returns the gesture.

“Hi,” Nancy says. She has a weird expression on her face. “We’ve met…”

“Starcourt,” Robin supplies, and Nancy needs no further explanation. The three of them share a few seconds of silence.

That night. That awful, terrible night. Robin has learned not to expect much sleep anymore. More often than not, she wakes up in a cold sweat. The Russians; being tied to that chair and seeing needles, saws, scalpels… And worse than that. Real, actual monsters. She doesn’t watch sci-fi movies anymore. She’s seen enough of all that. The three of them, and all the others who were there that night, share something. Robin and Nancy, though they’ve never actually spoken, share something. They’re connected.

Steve coughs, and that breaks them all out of their reverie. “So, Nance, what brings you here today?”

“Looking for a movie.” Nancy glances around. “Though I don’t think I’ll have much luck finding it today.” She smiles. “It’s called, uh, _Back To The Future_? Jonathan told me I should watch it.”

“ _Back To The Future_!” Steve declares. He scans the room and lunges over a few stacks to grab the VHS tape. “It’s a great movie. One of my favourites.”

“Mine too,” Robin says quickly.

“Oh,” Nancy says, taking it from Steve. “That’s, uh, that’s great. Because, you know, I don’t always like the movies Jonathan says—not that he has bad taste, he has great taste. It just doesn’t always match up. But if you both like it…”

“Of course.” Robin slides off the counter and scans the tape. “Overnight rental?”

“Yes.” Nancy smiles when she says that. Her smile makes her eyebrows rise and she looks younger, less worried, more like the Nancy she remembers from high school. It’s nice to see it. It makes everything feel a bit more normal. It’s easier to forget that the last time they saw each other, they were in Starcourt Mall, lobbing fireworks at a creature right out of a horror movie. 

“That’s five dollars, then.” Robin holds out her hand. Nancy plucks a note from her purse and places it in Robin’s hand. She’s elegant even in the way she pays—it sort of infuriates Robin. Perfect, prissy, Nancy Wheeler.

“Thanks,” Nancy says—there’s that smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Uh, you too,” Robin says. She swallows. What she would give for this to be their first meeting, for everything that happened to have never occurred at all.

Steve steps in front of her. “Hey, Nancy. Um, _Je suis un imbécile_.” His pronunciation is perfect. It’s a shame, Robin thinks, because he might have been really impressive if he’d said something different. Steve is standing with his arms spread like a magician showing off his latest trick.

Nancy frowns. “You are… an imbecile?”

Steve splutters. “That’s not—that isn’t what I said.” He glares at Robin, who is howling with laughter. “Robin told me to say it.”

Nancy laughs. “You speak French?”

“Mhm.” Robin grins, holding out the tape. “ _Bon film_.”

Nancy smiles. “ _Merci._ ” She takes the tape. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.” Robin watches her leave the store, clutching the VHS tape her boyfriend told her to watch. It’s a bit windy outside, and Robin is almost scared that it will blow Nancy away, because she’s so tiny, until she sees her get into her car. Robin turns around to face the wall, squeezes her eyes shut, opens them again, and turns back around.

Steve is looking at her suspiciously. His arms are crossed. “You can be a real ass sometimes. What did you say to her?”

“I told her to enjoy the film.” 

“And what did she say back?” Steve demands.

“She said thanks. Dingus.”

Steve sits down to start shelving tapes for what feels like the fiftieth time that day. At this rate, he’ll still be on this one task when January comes around. “I didn’t know Nancy spoke French,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Neither did I,” Robin says. She’s looking out the window, watching Nancy’s car drive out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave kudos and comment if you have the time. I'd love to know what you thought and I thrive off validation.  
> I'm going to be updating this every week or so, maybe more often if I have the time. There is an outline already written, so I know exactly where I'm heading if that gives you some comfort. I'm really excited to write this story!  
> [This](https://i1.lisimg.com/19059071/280full.jpg) is the image of Ally Sheedy I imagined Robin looking at. I think there's a certain resemblance to Nancy there. Maybe it's the hair.  
> I've never written Robin before so apologies if I fumbled her voice. I'll be improving, I promise!  
> (you can find me on tumblr at inhobbok.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for everyone who read the last chapter, and special thanks to the people who left such lovely comments--you all really made my day. I've been having an excellent time writing this story. Hopefully this second chapter lives up to the first!

Keith is supremely pissed when they inform him that Nancy Wheeler was in the store yesterday.

He points a Cheeto dust-stained finger from Steve to Robin. “Next time that happens,” he says, his droning voice boring into Robin’s skull, “you come get me.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “If you hadn’t been off playing Pac-Man or whatever, you would have seen her. You’ve only got yourself to blame.” She pauses to point a customer in the direction of the romance movies. “Besides, I don’t get what you see in her.”

Keith turns around to make a face at Steve. “Girls,” he says incredulously.

“They just don’t get it,” Steve says, shrugging animatedly. Over Keith’s shoulder, he winks at Robin, who grimaces. It’s true that she likes girls as much as the two of them, but at least she has taste. Nancy Wheeler—she’s cute, Robin supposes, but she’s kind of boring. Robin’s memories of her in high school are a series of tableaus set in the library, with Nancy’s head bent down over open textbooks, neat pages of notes scattered over the desk, her hair falling over her face. She was doll-like. Finely formed and fragile. Well—maybe not fragile. Not anymore.

But still, she’s no Tammy Thompson.

Keith stomps away, still shovelling Cheetos into his mouth. Steve watches him go, then sidles up to Robin. “So,” he says.

Robin sighs. “So.”

Steve crosses his arms. “If I murder Keith, Nancy gets to live another creep-free day.”

“I like your thinking,” Robin grins. They shake on it.

“I can hear you,” Keith says, standing right behind them. Steve jumps. Robin crosses her arms. He has an uncanny ability to disappear and reappear without notice, and this is not the first time it has gotten them in trouble. This time, however, Robin is standing her ground.

“I mean it, though, Keith. Be normal.” She looks him in the eyes, leaning forward. “Normal. Do you know what that means?”

“Sure I do.” Keith sucks the Cheeto dust from his thumb and forefinger, then holds his supposedly clean hands up for her inspection. They’re _not_ clean.

“Ugh. Maybe just try _not_ —” Robin cuts herself off as she sees Nancy drive into the parking space outside the Family Video store. Keith and Steve don’t seem to notice the sudden silence: they too are staring at the car, comically open-mouthed. Robin rolls her eyes. _Boys_.

Nancy walks in to see the three of them already looking at her. “Hi,” she says, glancing at each of them quizzically. She holds up the VHS tape. “I came to return this.”

“Hello, Nancy,” Keith says with a wide smile, holding out his hand to shake. With disgust, Robin can see the saliva still glistening on his thumb. _For the love of God,_ she thinks. _Don’t shake it, Nancy_.

Steve seems to have a similar idea, because he lunges across and grabs Keith’s hand himself. Nancy retracts her half-outstretched hand—she’s so _nice_ , even to creeps like Keith—and frowns. Robin winces. Keith looks at his hand, then up at Steve.

“I, uh, need you to help me in the back,” Steve says quickly, leading Keith away like a small child. Keith may be taller, but Steve is strong. He was a star athlete in high school, after all. That’s why Nancy went out with him. This is pure speculation on Robin’s part, but every other girl seemed to like Steve for that reason. They were so _shallow_.

Steve Harrington—King Steve, they called him. The poster boy of Hawkins High School. Everyone _loved_ him. Boys lined up to be his friend, girls lined up to—well, they lined up to do as much as he would let them. There were times where Robin almost wished that she was that person. Now, watching Steve struggle with Keith as they walk away, she’s glad she is herself.

“Sorry about them,” she says to Nancy. “They’re… dinguses.”

Nancy laughs. “They are.” She looks down, then up again, eyelashes fluttering. She hands Robin the tape of _Back To The Future_. “I, uh, I didn’t really like it that much.”

Robin takes it from her. “No, neither do I.”

Nancy frowns. “I though you said it was your favourite?”

Robin feels her cheeks redden and suddenly she wishes she had a Delorean like in the movie, so she could go back in time and start this conversation again. “Well. I guess I have mixed feelings.” She hesitates. “The first time I watched it was… it was at Starcourt. _That_ night.” She lets out a sigh.

“Oh.” Nancy looks down again, then frowns with a smile. It’s a funny expression, one that betrays insecurity. Nancy Wheeler, insecure? It doesn’t sit right with Robin. Nancy has no reason to be insecure. If Steve was the poster boy of Hawkins High School, Nancy was the poster girl. King Steve and Princess Nancy. Pretty and smart and palatable. “How did you—why were you watching a movie?”

Robin smiles. “Long story.”

“Yeah.” Nancy sighs. “Yeah. Well,” she says, shifting her handbag onto her shoulder, “it was good to see you.” She looks like she wants to say more, but her lipsticked lips remain sealed. 

“Nance!” Steve, hurrying up from the back. He looks over his shoulder, then, leaning in, says in a low voice, “Before Keith gets back—he’s looking for a box of _Star Wars_ tapes that doesn’t exist—I wanted to ask, are you going to be home on Friday?”

Nancy nods.

“Great. Um, I’m going to be there too. Movie night. We’re watching The Terminator. So, uh, d’you want to join us? By us, I mean me and your brother and his friends.” He scratches the back of his head and raises his eyebrows. He looks sort of pathetic, Robin thinks, with his puppy-dog eyes that are so obviously looking for Nancy’s approval.

“I don’t know..” Nancy says, her voice rising in pitch. She looks at Robin. “Are you going?”

Robin doesn’t know. She didn’t even know there was going to be a movie night. She looks at Steve for an answer. He nods enthusiastically. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Yeah. Yes.”

Nancy grins. It looks genuine. It looks real. It’s happy. Seeing Nancy smile, when her vividest memories are of Nancy afraid… It makes it all so much easier to deal with. It’s easier to believe that they can move on.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll join you,” Nancy says. She’s talking to Steve, Robin believes, but she is still looking at Robin. She’s suddenly self-conscious. She darts her eyes away then, gaining some courage, looks back. Nancy is still smiling at her. “I’ll see you around then,” she says, turning around to go.

“Yeah. See you.” Robin smiles. “Bye.”

Nancy looks over her shoulder and waves. “ _Au revoir._ ”

Steve crosses his arms once Nancy is outside. “I can’t believe you two are speaking different languages together.” He waves a pen at her. “It’s discrimination. Against… monolinguals.”

Robin scoffs. “That’s a big word. Wait—you’re telling me you don’t know what _au revoir_ is?” There’s a characteristic chewing sound behind them, and Robin turns around to see Keith staring out the window at Nancy’s car. “Keith, tell me you know what _au revoir_ means.”

“Hello,” Keith answers. “In French.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Half a point.”

“Steve,” Keith says around a mouthful of Cheetos. “I didn’t see that box. And I _know_ there wasn’t a box, you wastoid. I realise that you are pursuing Nancy Wheeler, even though she already rejected you, and I am informing you now that there is no chance.”

“Still a better chance than you,” Steve retorts.

“She has a boyfriend already,” Robin snaps. He lives hundreds of miles away now, but that’s not helpful information right now. She turns around and walks over to the shelves, desperate for something to do. She leans down. “And you stocked these wrong. T comes _after_ S, dingus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please leave kudos. If you have the time, I always appreciate comments, they make writing this story worth it. I'd really like to know what you, the reader, are enjoying about this. As much as I am having fun, I also want this to be something people want to read. So, let me know what you'd like to see more of! I have an outline for the whole story, but it's flexible.
> 
> I really love writing Robin, she's such a fun character (and also I'm projecting onto her a lot but that's beside the point). The dynamic between Steve and her is one of my favourites on the show. I'm having a grand time writing them!
> 
> Some of the tags on this fic (including the Mature rating) will come up later. The rest of the characters will all be present in the next chapter. The rating will be earned around Chapter 5. Just thought I'd clear that up so you didn't feel cheated. 
> 
> Also, if anyone cares: from now on I will be updating this fic weekly (sometimes twice a week). I was just super excited to get this chapter out!
> 
> tumblr: [inhobbok](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 1000 hits!  
> I got a bit carried away with this chapter. It’s longer than the two previous chapters put together. Enjoy!

Robin is not good around people. She never has been. There’s a reason she never spoke to Steve back in high school, or Carol, or Tommy H, or anyone else in that crowd. She was a sit-at-the-back-of-the-classroom, eat-lunch-in-the-band-rooms sort of person. She’s more comfortable with instruments than other human beings. Sarcasm and snark are her shields from awkwardness. It’s not the way to make people like you, but it’s a decent method of keeping jerks at bay. Then she got the Scoops Ahoy job, and things had to change.

She had to be _nice_ to people. She had to smile at them when they asked for repetitive ice-cream samples, and balance five scoops of flavours on a single cone, and tell them chirpily to have a good day when they left without leaving a tip. She became marginally better at being a good person, but Steve became the target of all her snark.

To her surprise, he took it.

But Steve was like a wounded puppy, and Robin suspects he would have latched on to anyone he worked with. It helps that they were interrogated by Russians together, too. Shared trauma does wonders for a friendship.

Regardless, Robin is not good with people. But she is trying to be. She spent an hour getting ready for this movie night in an attempt to impress—who? Nancy? No, Robin has no need nor desire to impress her. She doesn’t need her approval. The kids? Why would she care what the kids think?

She’s doing this to impress Steve. The neat patterned shirt, the beads hanging around her neck, the mascara she hastily applied—it’s all to prove a point. To Steve.

She’s not sure what the point is. But she’ll find out when she gets inside.

As they approach the house, Robin feels anxiety wrap around her chest and squeeze. She’s not sure why. There’s nothing to be afraid of, except for maybe the obvious: everyone present at the movie night will also have been present at Starcourt. But that won’t come up, because Robin is sure that they all feel the same way. It’s easier to pretend that nothing happened. That’s what she does with Steve. They talk a lot, but not about _that_.

“Alright,” Steve says, putting the car in park and turning the engine off. “Got the movie?”

Robin holds up _The Terminator_ with an expression that is more grimace than smile. They swiped it off the shelf as they were closing up for the night, and plan on returning it early in the morning before Keith realises.

Steve frowns at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Robin replies. She’s not lying. She _is_ fine.

“Good,” Steve says, already half-way out the car. “Because Dustin is going to throw a fit if we’re any later than this.”

Robin unglues herself from the seat shakily and opens the door. The trek across the lawn to the front door is wet and the grass squelches under their feet. Robin usually would hate it, but this year she’s glad that the last dregs of summer are disappearing. Steve reaches the door first and knocks.

It opens almost immediately. Although this is the Wheeler house, it’s Dustin’s scowling face that greets them. “You’re late.”

“Five minutes late!” Steve protests before he is hauled inside. 

Dustin looks at Robin, who is tottering up the steps, trying not to leave a trail of muddy footsteps. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

She gestures weakly. “Steve invited me.”

Dustin steps aside and allows her in. She’s glad that there’s at least one more familiar face. Well—they’re all familiar faces. But she knows Steve, and she knows Dustin. She lets out a deep breath and tries to relax.

The living room is set up so that all the possible sitting surfaces in the room form a half ring around the TV. Steve has already claimed the La-Z-Boy, much to Dustin’s annoyance. Robin gathers from their bickering that before he stood up to open the door, Dustin was sitting there. Robin looks around at the rest of the room. Nancy’s brother is on the floor leaning against cushions, long lanky legs curling protectively around a large bowl of popcorn. Two other kids, who are holding hands, have taken up half a sofa. Dustin sighs and flops down on the other side of the sofa.

Robin sits down on the other sofa, leaning against the arm. She glares at Steve, who doesn’t seem to notice. Dustin does, though, and it’s him that actually introduces her to the other kids. Nancy’s brother is Mike. The other boy is Lucas. The girl is Max. They wave awkwardly at each other. None of them want to voice what they are all thinking: they know each other, though they didn’t know each other’s names until just now. The ugly fact remains unspoken.

“Where’s your sister?” Steve asks Mike.

Mike looks up. “My sister?”

“Yeah, Nancy, she said she’s coning,” Steve says flippantly, but Robin can read him well and knows that he’s a lot less flippant than he’s trying to appear. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Mike says. He looks up at the ceiling and yells at the top of his voice, “NANCY!”

Her reply is muffled through the walls. “Coming!”

Dustin glances around. “Why’s _Nancy_ coming?” he asks. His tone suggests that Nancy is the last person in the world who he would expect to join them. Looking around at the geeky group, Robin can’t help but agree. This is not the Nancy Wheeler she knows from high school.

“You tell me,” Mike says, looking at Steve.

“I invited her,” Steve says.

“Ugh,” Mike groans, leaning back against the stack of cushions. “She has a boyfriend.”

Steve splutters, reaching for the lever that will make the La-Z-Boy sit up. He struggles for a while and Robin snorts. He glares at Mike once he’s upright. “I _know,_ dipshit, I just thought she’d like to watch a movie.”

“Sure you did,” Mike mutters, folding his arms.

“Hey.” Robin turns around. It’s Nancy, smiling shyly at them as if she, like the rest of them, doesn’t really know what she’s doing here either. She’s wearing a faded sweater which looks years old and she has no shoes, just thick socks that are slipping around her ankles. Robin feels a bit over-dressed. 

“Sorry,” Nancy says. “I was on the phone to Jonathan.”

“Oh, good,” Mike says pointedly. “How was your _boyfriend_ , Jonathan?” He’s looking at Steve.

Nancy frowns at him. “He was great.” She sits down on Robin’s sofa, perching herself in the centre. She crosses her legs and her knee nudges Robin’s thigh. Robin forgets how to breathe for a second. She’s not good with shit like that, however silly this aversion might be. She crosses her leg over her knee, putting it out of Nancy’s reach. Nancy glances at her but says nothing.

Mike puts the movie on and they all settle down for two hours of action. Robin is still finding it a bit difficult to breathe. Is this anxiety? Is something wrong with her? Maybe it’s the movie. Maybe she’s scared by the movie. Well, that’s stupid. Mostly she’s just bored by it. Her gaze wanders. 

Lucas and Max seem more interested in each other than the movie, whispering in each other’s ears. Steve’s frowning at the screen, evidently somewhat confused. That’s typical of him. He’s never been good at following a storyline, but at least he tries. Dustin and Mike appear totally engrossed. Robin looks over to Nancy, and is surprised that their eyes meet. Nancy is looking at her.

“Do you… do you want to get out of here?” Nancy whispers.

Robin looks around. No one is paying attention. “Sure,” she whispers back. Nancy stands up and tiptoes out of the room. Robin follows. None of the others even look up.

Nancy sits on the kitchen counter. “God, I was so bored!”

“Same! It was just—nice night for a walk, _eh_ ,” Robin says. Her imitation is terrible, but Nancy giggles. 

Nancy slips off the counter. “Ice-cream?” she asks, opening the freezer. She hauls out a tub of strawberry-flavour. She rummages around in cupboards and emerges with two spoons and two small bowls. She passes one to Robin.

Robin grabs a spoon. “Want me to?” she offers. “I’m a master at scooping ice-cream. Scoops Ahoy,” she adds in answer to Nancy’s frown.

Nancy smiles. “Go ahead,” she says, pushing the tub across the counter and hopping back up onto the counter.

Robin scoops ice-cream generously, taking extra care to make the scoops perfect. She hands the bowl to Nancy then makes her own, putting in much less effort this time. Before Nancy can do anything, Robin puts the ice-cream back into the freezer and hops up onto the counter to join her.

“ _Bon appetit_ ,” Robin says.

Nancy smiles. “So you speak French?”

Robin nods. “My mom’s family is from France. It’s practically my first language.” She shrugs. “What about you?”

“High school French. Just the basics.”

“You speak it pretty well.”

“Thanks.”

It’s comfortable sitting here with Nancy. It’s been months since she’s had any close friends, except for Steve. She pushes her ice-cream around the bowl, swinging her legs off the counter.

“This is nice,” Nancy says, smiling in the self-deprecating way that Robin has come to recognise as familiar. “It’s been ages since I had any _girl_ time. I used to—I used to do this all the time with Barb.”

“Barb?” Robin asks, then shuts her mouth. It’s Barbara Holland, a girl Robin sort of knew in high school, who died almost two years ago. Exposure to chemicals, or something like that. Robin realises now that the story in the newspapers was probably not the full story. It never is that simple in Hawkins. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nancy pushes her ice-cream around her bowl. “It’s just, it was really unfair, you know? I mean, Barb didn’t even _want_ to go out with me that night.” She shovels a spoonful into her mouth. “You know,” she says, her voice muffled by the ice-cream in her mouth, “if it was me, or Steve, or Jonathan, or even one of the kids—I wouldn’t be as angry.” _Or me_ , Robin thinks. Nancy swallows. “That’s shitty, isn’t it? I just mean, look at the danger we put ourselves in.”

Robin nods. She learned to accept death over the course of two long days. It was going to be someone. Now she holds onto the small victories: at least it wasn’t Steve, or Dustin, or Erica. She wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if anything had happened to them while she was there.

Nancy closes her eyes tightly and opens them again. “Do you.. do you get nightmares?”

This is not something Robin usually likes to admit. “All the time.”

“Me too. I thought I was the only one.” Nancy’s eyes are sort of distant, and Robin knows what she’s thinking about. The fireworks exploding. All of them, screaming and shouting. A million colourful sparks raining around them. In another place, it might have been pretty. But not there. Not with that _thing_ thrashing around in the centre of the mall.

“Hey,” Robin says. Nancy’s fingers tap rapidly on the counter. Robin places her hand on Nancy’s, tentative. She rests her hand very carefully. Her touch is light. Nancy’s fingers are cold. Nancy looks up at her, and Robin realises _oh god, maybe this is too much_. She pulls her hand away too quickly. She’s never been good at this affection thing. “Hey,” she says again, trying to salvage the situation. “It’s gone, right? It’s not coming back. We’re safe.”

“I know.” Nancy spoons more ice-cream into her mouth and falls silent.

Robin doesn’t know what to do. She’s afraid she’s ruined something, whatever it was they had. She would have called it friendship, but that feels weird. They have more than that, and yet simultaneously they are not there yet. They’re stuck in this weird space. They don’t know each other at all, and yet they know each other in the most intimate way—they were afraid together.

Nancy wipes under her eyes with her fingers. Her fingers are thin and dainty. “You never told me what you were doing watching a movie at Starcourt that night.”

“I told you, it’s a long story.”

Nancy sniffs, then smiles. “I’m in the mood for a long story.”

So Robin tells her. She tells it from the start, the secret Russian code in the back of Scoops Ahoy, recruiting Erica through ice-cream bribes, finding themselves stuck in the elevator, getting caught and the injection that made Steve and her act like they were drunk out of their minds, their escape, and being left in the movie theatre. Nancy is clutching her stomach in laughter-pains at some parts. It’s strange, Robin never thought of it as a funny story. But now, telling it to Nancy, she exaggerates, embellishes, and tells it all with a grin on her face. It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous. She and Steve were a mile underground, evading literal evil Russians, and they were both high as a kite. Soon Robin is laughing too.

“But—but what did you do? Did they just leave you in the cinema?” Nancy gasps through her laughter, holding her side.

“They did!” Robin says, her eyes wide like she can’t believe her own story. “They were supposed to keep an eye on us, but—we got thirsty, so we went to the water fountain outside.” She pauses to eat a spoonful of ice-cream. “And then we got sick, like really sick, so we ran—and I’m telling you I have never run faster than this, not even from the Russians—ran into the bathroom, and—yeah, well, we were sick.”

Nancy raises her eyebrows. “I guess I see why you’re mixed on the movie.” They fall into another fit of laughter.

Robin leans so she can see around the wall into the living room. They’re all still watching the movie. Steve might be about to fall asleep. Dustin punches his leg and he jerks awake. They start bickering in low voices, until Max hisses at them to shut up. She turns back to Nancy.

“He told me he loved you.”

Robin isn’t really sure why she says it. She finds herself leaning forward, scrutinising Nancy’s face for a reaction. Her mind is back in that bathroom. Speaking to Steve as the drug wore away. His voice, weirdly disembodied as it echoed around the bathroom before it reached her. She couldn’t see his face. She could only hear him.

“Oh.” Nancy looks down. “He… We used to—”

“I know.” God, why did she bring this up? She just wanted to see Nancy’s reaction, see what she said, what she thought. It was a stupid thing to do. “But then he said he loved _me_ , so…” She tries to inject some incredulity into this statement, but it comes out mostly pathetic. Luckily, Nancy latches onto it.

Her eyebrows rise and she smiles conspiratorially. “Really? Is that how you two…”

Robin frowns. “How we what?”

“You know. Got together.”

“What?” Robin was not expecting this. “God, no. No. I told him—” _I told him a lot more than I probably should have_ , she thinks, then pushes that thought away. “I told him I wasn’t on the same page.”

Nancy, her eyes wide, looks genuinely shocked.“I thought you two were a couple.”

Robin snorts. “Never in a million years. He’s great, but… Not my type, I guess.”

“Wasn’t really mine, either,” Nancy says. She laughs, but Robin only manages a smile. 

She’s still thinking about the bathroom and what she said in there. It feels like another world, like someone else’s memories. There must have been something of the Russian drug left in her system, because a sober Robin would never have revealed that. Especially not to Steve Harrington, no matter what they had been through together. Steve Harrington, who had just confessed his love to her. Steve Harrington, who had called Angie Roberts a “dyke” in the cafeteria in junior year.

Nancy thought they were a couple. She couldn’t have been further from the truth. What would she say if she knew? She wouldn’t be eating strawberry ice-cream with Robin in her own kitchen, that’s for sure. She probably wouldn’t want Robin anywhere near her.

The phone rings. Nancy looks at it, then back at Robin. “Sorry,” she says, then goes to the wall to answer it. “Hello? Jonathan? No, I didn’t—well, you said you got busy.” Nancy looks at her feet and suppresses a smile. “No, I can’t—fine, what happened?”

Nancy purses her lips as she listens to her boyfriend. She glances apologetically at Robin, who gives her a thumbs up. She looks back down at her feet, but her frown is starting to dissolve into a smile.

Robin suddenly feels like an outsider. Her stomach turns. As quiet as she possibly can, she puts her almost empty bowl in the sink and tiptoes back into the living room. The movie is still going and the characters are fighting, but Robin’s not entirely sure why. It doesn’t matter much to her. She curls up on the end of the sofa and allows her eyes to unfocused as she ruminates over the conversation.

Robin has never been good around people, but for those twenty minutes or so she had with Nancy, she felt like she was. She felt funny, interesting, maybe even _cool_. She was more than just a band kid, or that girl who works at the Family Video store. She was just Robin.

Nancy doesn’t return to watch the movie with them, even though Robin hears her hang up the phone. Robin isn’t sure how she feels about that.

Steve drives her home. He taps on the steering wheel in time to Teena Marie, murmuring nonsense that sounds almost like the lyrics. Robin would usually join him, but she’s not in the mood.

“Where’d you two disappear to?” Steve is looking at her.

“Eyes on the road, Harrington,” Robin replies. “We got bored. We had ice-cream.”

“Thought you didn’t like ice-cream.”

“I don’t.” Robin crosses her arms and looks out her window, facing away from Steve. “Nice to talk to someone else, though. Not that you’re not absolutely _riveting_ company.”

Steve snorts. “What did you talk about?”

“This and that.”

Steve takes the hint and doesn’t question further. They sit in silence for a couple of seconds, then sings, “ _Let’s make a deal, sugar._ ” He slaps his hand on the steering wheel, slipping into his Tammy Thompson impression. “ _All I want to do is be your one and only lover—_ ”

He stops before the chorus, expecting Robin to pick it up. She doesn’t. They’re left in an awkward silence. Steve keeps tapping along to the song. “How is she?”

“Who, Nancy?”

“No, the Queen of England. Yes, Nancy.”

Robin shrugs. “She’s okay, I guess. I mean… You know. Starcourt, and all that.”

Steve stops tapping. His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Yeah. Makes sense.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I wish I could take it away. Wish I could help her.”

_So do I,_ Robin thinks, but instead she says in an annoyingly sing-song voice, “I think you’re still in _love_.” Steve scoffs, but Robin notices his cheeks is pink. “You are!”

“I’m not,” Steve says firmly as he turns into her driveway.

Robin can’t deny that she feels a sense of relief at that. She hops out the car and runs up the driveway. It’s cold. She’s glad for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please leave kudos and a comment (or send an ask on [tumblr](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com)! )if you have the time. Your comments have been really lovely and I so appreciate everything you say, I've been checking my phone obsessively to see the stats and let me tell you, it is the biggest confidence boost <3
> 
> This chapter was a bit more serious than the last two. I was wildly projecting onto Robin, if you couldn’t tell. The whole being afraid of casual affection with other girls, worried that you’re overstepping boundaries—I’m pretty sure that’s a universal lesbian experience. Also, living in a small town in 1985 would probably make a person hyper-vigilant about these things. In my mind, this is why Robin doesn't really recognise her feelings for Nancy at this point.
> 
> Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It might not be my best work but it's the one I'm proudest of, I think, because I worked pretty hard on it. Anyway, hopefully I did it justice. It's mostly uphill from here.
> 
> The song that Steve and Robin are listening to in the car is “Lovergirl” by Teena Marie (it slaps btw, you should definitely listen to it). The line that Robin was supposed to sing was “I just want to be your lovergirl.” But she doesn’t say it aloud. Hmmmmmmmm.


	4. Chapter 4

Robin glances at the door, then back to the stack of horror movie tapes she is supposed to be marking for sale.

This is becoming a habit of hers. Every day this week, she has caught herself glancing at the door every few minutes, as if she’s expecting something interesting to walk in. Even Keith has commented on it, and he’s the least observant person Robin has ever met.

“Looking for your prince charming?” he asked between mouthfuls of Cheetos. This has become a running joke for him, and even Steve has joined in on it. It started with Keith asking if Robin had a boyfriend. Steve, who was holding a tape of _Excalibur_ at the time, chimed in, asking where her prince charming was. Keith seemed to find it hilarious. Steve does too, for different reasons.

Robin peels a sticker proclaiming “50% OFF!” from the sheet and presses it onto a tape of _Carrie_. The job is monotonous and unfortunately, Steve doesn’t work on the Thursday morning shift, and won’t be here for another three hours or so. If only she could choose the music that’s playing in the store—she swears she’s heard “Take on Me” four times in the last hour, and although usually she likes it, it’s starting to drive her crazy.

She glances up again, and to her surprise there’s Nancy, walking across the parking lot into the store. Robin’s heart leaps—finally, something interesting is happening. She was about to die of boredom. Nancy’s hugging her shoulders against the cold, the wind whipping her hair across her face. She pushes the door open and staggers in.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” she says, grinning at Robin like they’re sharing a joke. “Terrible weather.”

Robin smiles at her. “You looked like you were going to blow away.”

Nancy raises her eyebrows. “Were you watching me walk in?”

Robin, suddenly conscious that she has been staring, looks away. “I didn’t—”

“Hey.” Her odd little smile-frown appears on her face. “I’m just kidding.”

Robin’s face warms. “Yeah. Duh.”

Nancy wanders around, browsing the shelves. She’s almost entirely hidden from view, except for her forehead, which bobs along as she walks down the aisle. Her hair has relaxed out of the perm she had over the summer. It’s parted, like she used to do in high school. Nancy really was a priss back then, with her neat hair and cardigans and skirts—she’s wearing something similar now, but Robin sees it differently. It’s kind of cute, really. It looks good on her. 

“Robin?”

She blinks. “Yeah?”

Nancy reappears around the other end of the aisle. “Do you have anything to recommend? Jonathan’s been on me to get more cultured, I guess. He keeps telling me I need to watch more than what’s popular.”

Hearing this, something surges in Robin. She actually quite liked Jonathan while they were in high school, and they probably would have been friends if he hadn’t avoided other people like the plague. But he was always somewhat pretentious, somewhat aloof, and she’s—not upset, that’s too strong a word, maybe annoyed is the right way to say it—she’s annoyed that he would be so… presumptuous.

“There’s a reason it’s popular,” Robin says, shrugging off her anger.

Nancy smiles. “Well, thanks. But he’s right, I never know what he’s talking about…”

Robin chews her lip. “Well, horror movies are fifty percent off.”

She laughs. “I noticed,” she says, gesturing to the bright green sign declaring the fact on the wall next to them. She hugs her arms around herself. “I get scared easily if I’m alone, though. Maybe not the best idea.”

Robin shrugs and gets to her feet. “If you’re looking for things that are unpopular, you won’t find it here. Family Video is notoriously mainstream.” She hates the sound of her voice. She sounds so high-and-mighty; Nancy probably thinks she’s really rude. Robin wants to rip all her hair out. She’s trying to remember what she said to Keith when Nancy came into the store last week: _be normal_. It’s easier said than done. To her horror, she’s almost sympathising with Keith now.

“Where would you say I should go, then?” Nancy asks.

“My place.” Shit, why did she say that? Imagine what Steve would say if he heard that—imagine what Nancy _is_ thinking right now as she begins to laugh and then frowns. Robin goes red. “I mean—I’m into all those movies, I’ve got something of a collection of them. Actually, I have a movie you might like…” Her heart is beating quite fast at this point. She’s afraid that she’s being too forward, that Nancy is going to see right through her and cry the L-word. That’s _not_ what this is, though. “It might be what you’re looking for.”

“Oh really?” Nancy’s face betrays no disgust. Robin feels a wave of relief. “What is it?”

“It’s called _Passion_. It’s—it’s hard to explain what it’s about. It’s about a movie.”

Nancy’s lips quirk. “A movie about a movie?”

Robin shrugs. “About the people making a movie.”

Nancy considers this, then nods as if she has made up her mind about it. “When should I come over, then?”

Come over? Robin had meant to just loan the movie to her, but this is entirely different. It makes her heart flutter—Robin suspects this is leftover anxiety from their last movie night. Being alone with Nancy is an alien experience. Robin has rarely been alone with a girl. She tends to avoid it. But the prospect of another night with Nancy, another night with a friend other than Steve, is too exciting to pass.

“Tonight?” Robin offers. “I know it’s short notice, but I’m not working late and we’ll have the house to ourselves, anyway, because my dad’s working and my sisters are going out.” She knows she’s babbling but is having trouble stopping. “Of course, if you’re busy or something we can—”.

Nancy interrupts her. “I’m free.” She smiles. “Where do you live?”

Robin writes the address on a scrap of paper, mentally exploring all the possibilities from here, what she’ll say to Nancy when she arrives and where they’ll watch the movie and . Her shaking hand makes her handwriting messy, but Nancy doesn’t seem to mind. She folds the scrap neatly and slips it into her pocket. “What time, then?”

“Six?” Robin says it like a question, like she’s asking for Nancy’s approval.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” Nancy grins.

Robin smiles back. They don’t say anything for a while, just grinning at each other. Robin is happy. She’s actually, truly happy. She hasn’t felt like this for a long time. Nancy’s cheeks lift when she smiles, her eyes twinkle, and she looks… she looks pretty. Nancy Wheeler is pretty as hell and this fact is starting to preoccupy Robin.

Robin looks away first. Eye contact is difficult to maintain. She looks back at Nancy, who is shifting her handbag over her shoulder. Robin recognises this as her sign of preparing to leave and she finds herself disappointed, dismayed even.

“Well, I’d better get going,” Nancy sighs, looking outside. “See you tonight, then.”

“See you,” Robin replies. She says it a lot more calmly than she’s feeling.

The rest of her shift passes easily. She’s not looking at the door every couple of minutes anymore. Even the task of labelling all the horror movies with sale stickers is less boring now that she has something to look forward to.

Steve arrives at one o’clock, just as Robin is finishing with the stickers and is starting to re-shelf all the horror tapes. He drops his backpack behind the counter and looks at her suspiciously.

“What’re you smiling about?”

Robin shrugs. “Nothing. Nancy came in. She was looking for you.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“No, dingus, she was looking for a movie.”

Steve pulls a face at her.

“Apparently _Jonathan_ is encouraging her to get cultured.” The name of Nancy’s boyfriend sounds derisive when she says it, but she doesn’t mean it to be. She’s just pointing out to Steve that Nancy has a boyfriend, in case he forgot. In case his thoughts were wandering to imagining a future with Nancy Wheeler. In case he was thinking of something he should not be thinking of. She certainly isn’t saying it for her own benefit. “She was looking for something a little less mainstream.”

“ _Here_?” Steve asks.

“That’s what I said to her.” Robin turns around, putting _The Thing_ back onto the horror shelf. “Anyway, she’s coming over to my house tonight to watch something different.”

She hears no response from Steve for the first few seconds. Then, “Just you two?”

Robin turns around. Steve looks a bit put out, but she doesn’t feel any pity for him at all. They’re having a girls night. Besides, if she and Nancy are going to be friends, they can’t have Steve chaperoning them every time they see each other.

“Yeah, just us,” Robin says firmly. She walks over to the counter and Steve goes to the shelves. They high-five each other as they pass. 

“Whatever. Enjoy your shitty French movie,” Steve says.

Robin flashes a grin at him. “Thanks, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you liked this chapter—if you did, please leave kudos and a comment if you have the time, it would be really appreciated. I’m on tumblr at [inhobbok](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com/).  
> The next chapter is something I’m really looking forward to writing, so it should be up pretty soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched a whole movie for this chapter. inspired by the video where maya hawke says robin would probably like godard. enjoy!!  
> (also: this chapter is sort of where the 'mature' rating comes in. just a heads up.)

Robin sits cross-legged on top of the chair at the kitchen bench, facing the front window. She can see every single car that passes in front of her house from here. It is five fifty-four, according to the clock that hangs above the stove. Nancy is coming at six. Robin has been sitting here for twenty minutes already, just in case she comes early.

Robin is simultaneously anticipating and dreading Nancy’s arrival. She knows this is silly, but she has gone through the house three times over to make sure it’s clean and everything is in the right place. Her house is smaller than Nancy’s (they don’t even have a second storey), and everything is a bit more cluttered. She hopes Nancy won’t mind that they’ll have to watch the movie in her bedroom, because everything in the living room has been covered in plastic sheets for weeks now—they’re meaning to paint it, but no one seems to have the time to get around to doing it.

Robin looks at the clock. Five fifty-eight. Two more minutes, or less maybe. She chews on her lip, going over the plans for the night. What is she going to do when Nancy walks in? She’s going to open the door, say a clever greeting (in French, perhaps, she could say _bonsoir_ , Nancy would probably like that), and they will chat for a minute or two in the kitchen. Then once the pizza arrives they’ll go down the corridor to Robin’s room—

_Shit_ , Robin panics. _I forgot the pizza_.

She throws herself off the chair and lunges to the telephone, nearly causing herself severe injury in the process. She dials the number to the local pizza store and waits, tapping her fingers on the counter. She can’t believe she forgot to order the pizza.

The teenager who works at the pizza shop answers with a sullen “Hello?” Robin orders a pepperoni pizza after some deliberation over what Nancy would like best, much to the annoyance of the impatient kid on the other end of the phone. It will arrive in thirty minutes. Robin hangs up and stomps back to the chair. This little slip-up has thrown her plan into disarray.

As if things weren’t bad enough, as soon as Robin sits down, there’s a knock at the door, and it’s far earlier than she was ready for. She jumps up as if she was electrically shocked and runs to the front door, her socks skidding on the floorboards. She opens the door, and the warm light of sunset floods in. Silhouetted against it is Nancy, who smiles at her. It’s almost comical how beautiful she looks in this moment.

“ _Bonsoir_ ,” Robin says, stammering.

Nancy’s smile breaks into a grin. “ _Bonsoir_ ,” she repeats back.

Robin steps aside to let Nancy in and then closes the door behind her. They stand in the doorway for a couple of seconds. Robin realises that despite her plan to have a clever and witty conversation in the kitchen, she has no idea how to get there. She can barely say anything at all right now, let alone anything clever or witty.

Nancy looks around. “Sorry I’m late,” she says, looking anxiously at the clock. “I was on the phone with Jonathan.” This is a sobering fact to Robin. The only reason Nancy is here is because of her boyfriend. Nancy doesn’t seem to notice the effect her words have. She points at an old mirror Robin found in an antique store. “That’s cute,” she says.

“Thanks,” Robin replies. Her voice is a bit shaky. “Um, pizza’s on its way. Hope you like pepperoni.”

Nancy nods. “My favourite.”

Robin feels a bit better about herself. “Come on in,” she says, leading the way to the kitchen. She almost feels as confident as she appears. She opens the fridge and bends to survey the contents. “D’you want something to drink? Coke?”

“Sure,” Nancy says. “Can I just leave my bag here?”

Robin doesn’t even turn around to check. “Of course,” she answers. She straightens up, holding a couple of cans of coke in one hand. With the other hand, she closes the fridge. “Here.” She hands one to Nancy.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Robin digs her nail under the tab and pulls it open. Nancy does the same. The cans open with a satisfying hiss. Robin raises her can. “Coke is it,” she says solemnly.

Nancy giggles. “Coke is it.” They both take a sip.

The stupid reference to the advertisement breaks whatever ice was left between them. It’s funny how it always goes like this. Before Robin sees Nancy, she’s nervous. Her stomach ties itself in knots and she meticulously plans out their interactions, even though she knows it won’t go the way she imagines. Once they’re together, though, everything falls into place anyway. They sip their Coke and talk. What do they talk about? Robin couldn’t say. She’s feeling a bit light-headed. All she knows is that she likes talking to Nancy, and that she hopes Nancy feels the same way.

The pizza arrives. Robin answers the door and pays for it, then carries it into the kitchen. Nancy looks excited as Robin opens the box and the smell of melted cheese wafts out. Robin is hungrier than she thought, and Nancy says she’s starving—the entire pizza is gone within ten minutes.

Robin sits cross-legged on the counter, licking the last remnants of tomato sauce from her fingers. Nancy drinks the last of her second can of Coke and stands up. “Should we start the movie?” she asks.

The movie. They were having such a great time just talking, Robin almost forgot why Nancy was here in the first place. Robin scrambles to her feet. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, the living room’s out of order right now. My room’s the next best place.”

Robin cleaned her room especially for the occasion—twice. She even made her bed, tucking in the sheets and pulling the covers up and fluffing up the pillows. Nancy stops in the doorway of Robin’s room and looks around. Robin follows her gaze over the band posters, the stack of VHS tapes in the corner, the trinkets on the windowsill.

“What do you think?” Robin asks, trying bravado.

“It’s really cool,” Nancy says. She sounds genuine. 

Robin is dumbstruck by this. Cool? There’s nothing cool about her at all.

Nancy sits on the edge of the bed and kicks off her shoes. She draws her knees to her chest, looking expectantly at Robin. Robin comes to her senses and retrieves the tape from the top of the stack in the corner. She put it there earlier, so she wouldn’t embarrass herself by trying to slide it from halfway down the stack. This tape is one of her most prized possessions. She ordered it via a magazine a couple of years ago, and she’s watched it a thousand times since. _Passion_ , by Jean-Luc Godard. It’s a goddamn masterpiece. Robin voices this aloud to Nancy.

“You must have seen it heaps of times, if you like it that much,” Nancy says, scooting across the bed so her back is against the headboard.

Robin shrugs. “Every few weeks. I even made Steve watch it with me once.” She snorts. “He calls it a ‘shitty French movie,’ but that’s Steve for you.”

Nancy frowns. “My French isn’t that good, you know.”

Robin has already thought of this, but she doesn’t say that to Nancy. “There are subtitles.”

Nancy looks relieved. “You don’t mind?”

“Definitely not. Steve needed them. It’s interesting to see how they translate it, anyway.”

Robin inserts the tape into the VHS player and presses play. The familiar music begins to play. She takes a deep breath and relaxes. She climbs onto the bed with Nancy, leans back against the headboard. Her hand falls into the gap between them. Robin is hyperaware of everything that’s happening. She’s sitting on her bed. With a girl. They are watching _Passion_.

On her banged-up old TV, a plane carves a white line into the blue sky over Switzerland.

Nancy scratches her nose and then drops her hand. It lands on Robin’s. A week ago, Robin would have pulled her hand away. Today she leaves it. It’s nice, actually, to touch someone else. Nancy’s hands are cold, anyway, she probably needs the warmth. They’re quiet. Robin can hear Nancy breathing.

Around half an hour into the movie, the subtitles abruptly turn off.

“Shit,” Robin mutters. She leans forward and slaps the VHS player, but nothing happens.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Nancy says.

Robin leans back again. “No, I’ll translate for you.”

Nancy looks at her. “Thanks.”

There’s a period of time where the two characters—their names are Hanna and Jerzy—don’t speak. Then it starts. “I’m working,” Robin recites. It’s odd to translate in real time like this. Her mind moves away from the movie, becomes a highway of language. French to English. _Quelle est la différence_ , Jerzy demands in the movie, and Robin murmurs in real life, “What’s the difference?”

The movie keeps playing, and Robin repeats every line in English. Nancy leans closer to her, still looking at the screen intently. Robin finds herself watching Nancy instead, at Nancy’s brown hair that is neatly parted down the middle, at her small perfect nose, at the way she is biting her lip as she concentrates.

The scene does not have much dialogue after all. It’s just the two characters looking at each other, and Jerzy taking Hanna’s hand in his, and smiling at each other. Nancy is watching intently. Her fingers flex under Robin’s hand. Robin closes her eyes, takes a breath to stabilise herself.

The scene ends, and the subtitles suddenly return. Robin looks down. Their hands are intertwined just like Jerzy’s and Hanna’s were. Nancy looks down too, then back up at Robin.

“You could be an actress,” Nancy whispers. 

Robin is acutely aware of how cold Nancy’s fingers are. “Thank you,” she whispers back. She pulls her hand away just as Nancy does the same. They watch the rest of the movie with their hands in their laps.

When it ends, they are static for a few moments. Robin is the first to move. She stands up from the bed and takes the tape out and puts it back on the stack. She faces the wall for a while, pretending to be fiddling with the cover of the tape, but really her eyes are closed, and she’s thinking. She’s trying to figure out exactly what is happening, what she’s feeling. She is all mixed up inside.

She turns around. Nancy is putting her shoes back on. She glances up and sees that Robin is looking at her. “Thanks for that,” she says, fiddling with the buckle on her shoe. “I see why you like it. It’s… it’s pretty. It’s really beautiful.”

Robin swallows. “It is.”

She and Nancy walk to the front door. Nancy fiddles with her sleeve before she goes. “Maybe we can do this again sometime,” she says.

“Yeah, maybe,” Robin says.

“ _Bonne soirée_ , then,” Nancy says. She opens the door and walks out. Robin stands in the doorway and watches her get into her car and drive away, until her car disappears around the corner. She closes the door and goes back inside. The clock says nine twenty-two.

* * *

It’s midnight. Nancy left almost three hours ago. Since then, Robin has done very little. She paced around the kitchen for a while, musing over everything that had happened. In her mind, she replayed every movement Nancy made, every word she said. She scrutinised her own movements and words, too. She was thinking about their hands, how they were so, _so_ close to actually holding hands. Was that too far? What did it mean? Did Nancy like it, or did she think it was uncomfortable? Furthermore, did Robin like it?

_Yes_ , she thought. _I did._

She didn’t dwell on that thought for long. She kept pacing, faster and faster, until she was running, outrunning scary thoughts, until her legs hurt and her lungs burned. She caught the corner of the counter and forced herself to stop. What is wrong with her? Why can’t she just be _normal_ , just enjoy someone else’s company for once?

She put on a stupid French song loud enough that she could hear it from the bathroom and took a warm shower. She washed her hair, too, for good measure. She dried off with an old towel and pulled on loose shorts and a hoodie. Then she stomped to her bedroom and flung herself onto her bed, where she still lies now, hours later.

She tried reading a book, an Italian novel she had recently picked up at a large bookstore when she went to the city a month back. Reading did not work. She tried listening to music: all sorts of genres, rock, pop, classical even. It did nothing to distract her from her ruminations. Nothing is working, and it’s starting to bother her.

Robin glances at the clock on her bedside. It says 12:03. She groans and rolls over. She’s supposed to work tomorrow. She adjusts herself so she’s lying down on her back, facing the ceiling. She closes her eyes. Her right hand wanders over her hip, her thigh, between her thighs. She sucks in a breath and tries to let herself go.

Her thoughts wander: to gorgeous models she saw in a magazine, an old crush Tammy Thompson biting the end of her pencil in class, the way Nancy looked standing in the doorway—

Robin raises her arm to run her hand through her hair. It’s frustrating that, no matter what she does, her thoughts keep wandering to Nancy. It can’t be healthy for Robin to be obsessing over her like this. The anxious feeling in her stomach whenever she sees Nancy isn’t good for her. She’s going to turn into a nervous wreck. She uses all her willpower to push her mind back to something else, so she can get herself off and finally go to sleep.

Her hand returns between her thighs. She starts to relax again, drift away from real life into a better place. She knows herself well, knows what she likes. It’s not long before she starts to feel good, really good, something like warm honey spreading through her body, and she squeezes her eyes shut and buries her face in the pillow next to her.

Nancy was sitting against this pillow. She was lying on this bed, right next to where Robin is lying now. Robin inhales sharply. She smells something sweet like perfume, and she knows it’s probably Nancy.

Their hands were touching.

The climax comes suddenly to Robin. Her hips buck up and she bites her lower lip, squeezing her thighs together. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, as she comes down from the high slowly, like falling through honey. She opens her eyes and comes to terms with exactly what just happened.

At first she’s mad at herself, mostly, that she can’t control her own thoughts well enough to stop worrying. Then she realises that maybe this is not just anxiety. Starcourt did not enter her thoughts even once tonight. No, this is completely different. Robin rolls over onto her stomach, burying her face into the pillow, inhaling the scent of Nancy Wheeler, feeling a little fuzzy around the edges and somewhat annoyed at herself. But mostly, she’s feeling okay.

Yeah, it’s all okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed, please leave kudos or a comment if you have the time. i was kinda nervous to post this because i've never really written a scene like that last one before, but i think it turned out alright? i think i like it. hopefully you do too.
> 
> say hi on [tumblr](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com/)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i updated!! this is just a short chapter, helping me get back into the swing of things. hope u enjoy!!

Steve opens the door and crosses his arms. “How was your date night?”

Robin rolls her eyes and pushes him aside as she walks into his house. “Just because _you_ want a date with Nancy Wheeler doesn’t mean we all do.” She dumps her duffel bag unceremoniously next to the door, then bends to pull the laces of her boots and kicks them off. The floor is cold even through her thick socks. “Jesus, it’s like a tomb in here.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve says, stomping down the corridor. “I’m the only sign of life in here.”

Robin follows him and turns into the kitchen. Without asking, she opens the fridge and sorts through its contents. She finds a tub of yoghurt and holds it up. “This expires today.”

“Go for it,” Steve says, flopping down onto the couch. “I don’t like yoghurt.”

Robin grabs a spoon from the drawer—she doesn’t have to ask, she knows where everything is—and cracks open the yoghurt. She perches on the end of the couch. They’ve done this a million times before. When Steve’s parents are away, which is often, Robin practically lives here. She’s going to sleep over tonight, hence the duffel bag.

“How’s life?” Robin asks chirpily, cracking open the yoghurt.

Steve answers with a groan. He rolls onto the floor and turns the TV on, flipping through channels until he lands on MTV. A music video is playing. He clambers back onto the couch. “How’s _your_ life?”

“Good. Better than yours.”

Steve nods gravely. “Nancy has that effect on people.”

Robin laughs, even though she privately agrees with him. “Shit, you’re really in it deep.”

Steve responds by grabbing a cushion and throwing it at Robin. It hits her right in the chest, taking her by surprise, and she drops her yoghurt. It spills all over her jeans. It doesn’t touch the couch, which is a small mercy—at least she won’t have to spend time cleaning that up.

“Nice one, dingus,” she snaps. Steve shrugs unapologetically, staring at the TV.

Robin stands and surveys the damage. Her jeans are ruined, there’s no going back here. And it’s too early to put on the pyjama pants that she brought with her. “I’m raiding your wardrobe,” she announces. She dumps the now-empty tub of yoghurt on the kitchen counter as she passes and pauses in the doorway to give Steve the finger. He reciprocates lazily.

Robin walks up the stairs with her legs held awkwardly to minimise any yoghurt dripping onto the floor. She realises once she’s at the top that she probably should have wiped off the excess with tissues, but there’s no point going back now. She goes into the bathroom and peels her jeans off. She leaves them in a heap on the tiled floor—she can get them later. Then she walks back out across the landing and into Steve’s room.

She finds a soft tracksuit in the bottom of his wardrobe and pulls them on. She pauses for a minute to look around his room. Robin hates this room. The walls are patterned with an ugly grid, which makes her feel like she’s caught in a cage. There’s a poster of a bikini-clad woman hanging next to his bed. The last relic of King Steve, Robin thinks with a smile. If she had been asked a year ago what she thought would be in Steve Harrington’s bedroom, this poster is exactly what she would have said. And not just posters of girls—she knows there were real girls in this room: Becky and Amy and Laurie and… and Nancy, probably. Robin doesn’t like to group Nancy with those girls, who were complete snobs and used to whisper mean things as Robin passed them in the hallway, but it’s true that Nancy and Steve probably spent a lot of time together in this room.

Is it jealousy? Is this jealousy that Robin feels? Surely not. That would be ridiculous. Yes, Nancy is pretty. Beautiful, even. Robin realised that last night. She’s also just really damn fun to be around. But Robin is happy with just being friends. That’s all they’re ever going to be—and she’s happy with that. She doesn’t even really _want_ more than that. She just wants to spend time with Nancy. They’re good right now. Robin wants to stay good.

Robin closes Steve’s bedroom door behind her for good measure.

Steve has migrated from the living room to the kitchen when Robin returns. He’s bent over and rifling through the fridge, pushing his hair out of his eyes as it falls over his face. “Hungry?” he asks. “I’m going to make lunch.”

This is music to Robin’s ears. “Brilliant,” she replies. “Need help?”

“No,” Steve says firmly. “Definitely not. Keep out. Go—” he waves his hand at her “—go and stand over there.”

Robin does as she’s told, standing just outside the kitchen. Steve pulls ingredients out of the fridge and stacks them on the counter: eggs, parmesan cheese, milk. Steve is a surprisingly good cook—self-taught, so some of his methods are a bit unorthodox, but his food tastes great and Robin prefers blissful ignorance to going hungry or attempting to make something edible herself.

“So,” Steve says, closing the fridge and finding a bowl. “How was Nancy?”

Robin scoffs. “She was good.” She leans against the doorway. “I don’t know, we had a good time. Talked. Watched a movie. You know, girls night shit.” Robin doesn’t actually know what a girls night usually involves, seeing as she never got invited to any back in high school, but she has reason to believe that what she and Nancy did would qualify.

Steve is breaking up the yolks of the eggs a bit too aggressively. “What’d you talk about?”

Robin sucks her teeth and raises her eyebrows. “The usual. School. Steve. Starcourt.”

“You talked about me?” 

Robin laughs. 

Steve looks down and shakes his head. “You’re a real pain in the ass sometimes, Buckley, you know?”

Robin shrugs. “Alright, Harrington. Just be glad I didn’t tell her you’re in _love_.”

Steve glares at the eggs. “I’m not in love.”

Robin enters the kitchen and sits on the counter, her legs swinging off the side. “That’s not what you said at Starcourt,” she says in a sing-song voice.She’s watching him carefully, trying to figure out exactly what he thinks of this. She doesn’t know why she cares so much, but she does.

Steve doesn’t move. “I was on drugs at Starcourt.” He says this very carefully. Robin winces. 

Most of the time, they’re careful. They avoid any subject that might lead to this. If you listened to their conversations, you would have no idea that they had been held and interrogated in a Russian facility for hours over the summer. It’s not something they like to discuss, and frankly it’s a mood-killer. Robin and Steve are out to have fun. They don’t want to be reliving the fear of seeing instruments of torture laid out beside them. Steve’s scream when they injected the drug into his neck plays on repeat in Robin’s mind every night. She doesn’t need to be thinking about it during the day, too.

Steve pours the egg-and-cheese mixture into a frying pan. It sizzles.

“Still,” Robin teases, but it’s half-heartedly. “You said you _loved_ her.” She pauses, then snorts. “I forgot, you were in love with _me_ , too!”

“Told you, I was on drugs,” Steve mutters, focussing on the frying pan. 

Robin thinks for a minute, biting her lip. Then, “How did you know?”

“How’d I know what?”

“That you loved her.”

Steve shrugs, his back turned. “I don’t know. I just… I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted to look after her. I wanted to live forever just so I could be with her.” He rubs his neck.

Robin scoffs. “Where’d you read that?”

“Dunno. That’s just how it felt.” He turns around. There’s a frown on his face. “Why do you care so much?”

Robin shrugs. “Bored. You and Nancy were the lovebirds of Hawkins High, you know. Fairytale romance, all that bullshit.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, bullshit. That’s exactly what it was.”

Robin feels like she’s hit a nerve there. She feels bad, she does, but she just wanted to know what being in love with Nancy Wheeler felt like. She doesn’t want to think about _why_ she wants to know this. It’s just curiosity, that’s all.

Steve flips the omelette over. “Grab a couple plates, would you?”

Robin obliges, glad for the distraction. She passes a plate to him and holds the other. He slides the omelette onto the plate, then cuts it in two pieces and dumps one half onto Robin’s plate. They retreat back to the couch to eat, and they don’t talk about Nancy anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! if you liked this, please leave kudos if you haven't already and a comment—your kind words are so appreciated <33  
> next chapter should be coming soon-ish, there definitely won't be as long of a wait as there was for this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another monster of a chapter. took me a while to write but i think it's worth it? anyway, enjoy!!

It’s freezing outside. It’s absolutely freezing, but for some reason Robin is standing on the side of Steve’s pool in nothing but her underwear, and Steve is leaning over the steaming water in his boxers.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. He folds his arms. “Yeah, okay, once you get in you’ll be warm.”

Robin dips one foot into the water. He’s right, it’s warm, but she’s dreading what will come afterwards. The air is cold enough on dry skin: she doesn’t want to think about it on wet skin.

“Fine,” she says. She’s starting to freeze out here. And, what the hell, it might be fun.

“Okay,” Steve says, bouncing a little on his toes. “Okay, one.”

Robin nods. “Two.”

“Three!” Steve dives right into the water and Robin follows half a second afterwards, holding her breath and shutting her eyes tight as she plunges down.

She surfaces, gasping for breath, the air punishingly cold on her face. Steve’s head emerges next to her and he shakes his head around, his hair flicking excess water everywhere. She retaliates by splashing a wall of water at him with her hand. He splutters, treading water.

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, then disappears underwater.

Robin tries to kick him but he grabs hold of her legs and pulls her down. They grab blindly at each other underwater and surface at the same time. Robin throws her head back and howls with laughter. 

Steve laughs too, pushing off the side of the pool and floating across the length of it on his back. His eyes are closed. Robin copies him, but instead of closing her eyes, she looks up. It’s a clear night. The stars are out, marching across the sky in brilliant white light. She spins around slowly, her arms and legs passing across the surface of the water like the spokes of a wheel. Soon she’s facing the house, and the roof is silhouetted against the sky. Her chlorine-stung eyes make everything a little blurry. If she squints, the roof of Steve’s house looks almost like the roof of Starcourt, minus the neon lights. And what was on the roof when she looked up that night?

She pulls herself upright suddenly, treading water again. She closes her eyes, turns around, and opens them again. Steve is upright too, at the side of the pool, staring at the forest. They’re thinking the same thing, but neither of them say it aloud.

Robin swims over to Steve and holds onto the side of the pool. “Race you?” she offers. “Winner gets bragging rights.”

Steve looks at her weirdly for a second, like the memories are still overwhelming him, then he pushes off from the wall suddenly and begins to furiously swim the length of the pool.

“Asshole!” Robin shouts, chasing after him. She doesn’t catch him so he wins their race, and he doesn’t shut up about it for a long time, but at least they’re distracted.

They clamber out of the pool after an hour or so swimming around, their fingers wrinkled. Steve wraps himself in one of the fluffy towels they brought from inside and throws the other to Robin. She catches it and shields herself from the night breeze. They run inside, bare feet slapping the pavement. Steve flips the outside lights off.

“Jesus, I wish I’d stayed in,” Robin says, her teeth chattering.

“I’m starting to think risking hypothermia wasn’t the best idea,” Steve says, his voice shaking as he shivers. “Hot chocolate?”

“Please,” Robin says. She dries herself as best she can with the towel, then throws it onto the ground and wrings out her hair over it. She ducks into the bathroom with clean dry underwear, Steve’s sweatpants, and her own hoodie tucked under her arm, and dresses. When she returns to the living room, Steve is busy making his hot chocolate. Robin watches him, bouncing up and down to get warm. Steve’s hot chocolate is a favourite of theirs, and after a lot of practise he’s not only great at making it, he’s also really fast. It’s only a matter of minutes before he’s pouring it into a pair of mugs and sliding one across the counter to her. 

Robin wraps her hands around it and just enjoys the warmth radiating off the ceramic for a minute. Then she takes a sip, and it’s absolutely divine. She would never admit this to Steve, of course. He knows it anyway.

Steve carries his mug of chocolate around to stand next to her. He rests his forearms on the counter, water dripping from his hair. He’s still in his boxers.

“You’re not going to get dressed?” Robin asks, amused.

“My house,” Steve says, “my rules.”

Robin rolls her eyes and sips her hot chocolate. The phone rings beside them, breaking the tranquil silence and startling Robin. Steve answers it with a jovial, “Harrington household, what can I do for ya?” But soon his face falls. He listens for a moment, then says, “Nance—no, I—what happened? Yeah, she is. Why… Okay, sure. Yeah. I’ll get her.” He purses his lips, then holds the phone out to Robin. “It’s for you.”

Nancy? Asking for her? Robin’s hand trembles slightly as she reaches for the phone and takes it. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Nancy’s voice. She sniffs— _shit_ , Robin thinks, she’s crying. What is she supposed to do? “Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s okay,” Robin says. It doesn’t come out right: she meant to say, _you could never bother me. Never in a million years_. Even though Nancy’s voice is slightly hoarse and trembly, Robin could listen to it all day. But that’s selfish.

“I called Steve to get your number, ‘cause I was going to ask you to come over… But if you two are busy, don’t worry about it.”

“No,” Robin says, maybe too quickly. “I can come. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Hang on, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffs again. “Thanks, Robin.”

Robin puts the phone down and thinks for a second, her heart racing. Nancy asked for her, specifically. Nancy wants Robin to come over. But something is wrong—Robin goes over all the possible scenarios in her head. It ranges from watching a scary movie to the return of monsters. All options seem unlikely, and even more unlikely that Nancy would ask for Robin specifically.

Steve has his arms crossed. “What’s wrong?”

Robin shrugs. “I need you to take me to Nancy's house. Like, now.”

Robin pauses before she reaches the door, shivering slightly in the cold. She looks around at Steve, who is sitting in the car. He gives her a thumbs-up, mouths _good luck_ , then starts the car and drives down the road. Robin turns around again and knocks on the door.

It opens almost immediately. Mike, Nancy’s little brother. “What’re you doing here?”

“Nancy told me to come over,” Robin says weakly.

“Oh.” He lets her in. “She’s been shut in her room for hours.”

“What’s wrong?”

Mike stops half-way up the stairs and turns around. “She didn’t tell you?”

Robin shakes her head.

Mike screws up his nose. “She broke up with Jonathan.”

Oh, shit. No wonder Nancy was so upset. Robin doesn’t know what she’s doing here. She’s not good at comfort. She’s good at banter, and humour. She’s good at sarcasm. She’s good at being defensive. But comfort requires vulnerability, and that’s _definitely_ not something Robin is good at. She follows Mike up the stairs feeling light-headed, and knocks on Nancy’s door. 

“Come in,” is the response.

Robin enters. Nancy is sitting on her bed, in pink pyjamas, legs drawn up to her chest. Her eyes are red and puffy. Robin’s heart breaks a little at the sight of her. She has seen Nancy at the extremes of emotion before: screaming in fear at Starcourt, laughing in joy at her house. But this is new; Nancy is sad. Nancy is distraught. Robin finds herself feeling the same way, too.

“Hey,” she says gently. She stands in the doorway for a second, then closes the door behind her and sits tentatively on Nancy’s bedspread. “You okay?” It’s a stupid question, but these are stupid times. What on earth is Robin doing here?

Nancy shakes her head, of course. “Sorry to drag you away from Steve,” she says, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. 

“It’s okay.” And it is, really. Robin, despite feeling distinctly out of place, is glad to be here.

“I heard Mike tell you what happened,” Nancy says. “Glad he said it aloud, not me.”

Robin nods. “Want to talk about it?”

Nancy shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, that’s why I asked for you. I just… I couldn’t talk about this to Steve, you know? Because we went through this ourselves. But you…” She shrugs. “I don’t have to worry about that with you.”

Robin winces at that, but Nancy doesn’t notice. She’s tracing her finger along the patterns in the bedspread.

“I don’t know what to say…” Nancy bites her lip and looks up, blinking hard. “Stupid, isn’t it? I called you over but I don’t know what to say to you. I guess… I guess I just wanted you. Wanted a girl. You get it, don’t you?”

Robin nods. A white lie—she has no idea about boyfriends, much less about breaking up. But she nods anyway, because this is what Nancy needs. She needs someone to listen to her as she pours her heart out. And she does just that, lying back across her bed, speaking to the ceiling. Robin turns around to face her, crosses her legs and leans forward to listen. The story comes in intervals, interrupted by sniffs and the occasional sob.

Here is what Robin understands: Jonathan moved away. He and Nancy stayed close for a while, but distance is destructive. He began to call less often. They still said “I love you” at the end of every phone call, but slowly, maybe, it started to feel less real. Nancy couldn’t see him, but she could see everything else. And everything else was so _good._ And perhaps Jonathan was not so good. It became easier for both of them to see the problems,rather than the good things. He was pretentious and got on her nerves sometimes. She was headstrong and dragged him along to things he hated. Their interests were so different. They were boyfriend and girlfriend… why?

“It’s like this,” Nancy says, rubbing her hand over her eyes. Her voice is small and sad, and reaches Robin as if through a wall. “We never spoke to each other in high school. We didn’t even _know_ each other, until his brother went missing. If all you have in common with a person is trauma, how do you learn to love them outside of that?” She hiccups, shaking her head, then looks at Robin. “I’m sorry, I’m being stupid.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Robin says, though she feels like her heart has been cleaved in two. She’s starting to think that she and Nancy don’t have much in common, either. She lies down next to Nancy, so they’re on the same level and their faces are inches apart. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

Nancy sniffs. “It just feels _bad,_ you know?”

“I know. It feels—it feels like _shit_! It’s total, complete shit.” Robin laughs, because the world is shit and she’s here with Nancy Wheeler, comforting her over a breakup. She wouldn’t have imagined this in a million years. She immediately regrets laughing, but to her surprise, Nancy giggles.

“It is,” she agrees. “God, it’s all just a mess, isn’t it? First Steve—don’t get me wrong, Steve was fun. But that’s all he was, for me at least. And then Jonathan… Interesting, and he understood me, I guess, but again, that was all.” Nancy sits up and shakes her hair out. “Wish I could date someone like you, Robin, you’re fun _and_ you’re interesting.”

Robin freezes. What does she say to _that_? And her heart leaps too, to know that Nancy thinks that about her. But Nancy obviously thinks nothing of it and has already moved on, so Robin is forced to do the same. This little piece of joy is lost.

Nancy rolls over onto her stomach and pushes herself off the bed. Robin stands up. 

Nancy glances at the clock on her bedside, which reads eleven-sixteen. “D’you want to stay over?” she asks. “I just don’t want to bother Steve at this time of night.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

Nancy smiles. “Do you mind sharing the bed?”

“Not at all,” Robin chokes out. What the hell is going on? She reminds herself not to be an idiot. This means something very different to Nancy. Robin feels like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. But there’s no need for her to be guilty, she hasn’t even done anything. _This is what normal girls do._ She can be normal.

Nancy runs her hand through her hair and crosses the room to turn off the light. She smiles at Robin. “Go on, get in.”

Robin mirrors her smile and very carefully peels back the covers. She slides in and scoots over to make space for Nancy. Nancy flips the lights off, leaving them in near total darkness. Robin’s eyes don’t adjust at first, so she only hears Nancy approach the bed, the rustle of blankets. Nancy’s hand lands on Robin’s stomach.

“Shit, sorry,” she murmurs, shifting herself so she’s lying down.

“It’s okay,” Robin whispers back.

The bed is not big enough for two people. Robin can feel Nancy’s warmth beside her. If she moved her fingers just half an inch, they would be touching. Nancy’s breaths start to slow, and Robin forces herself to do the same. This doesn’t have to mean anything big. It’s just two girls. Not even that—it’s just two friends. _Friends_.

“Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“I was the one who broke up with him,” Nancy whispers. Her voice is weirdly disembodied, coming at Robin out of the pitch-black. “Like, _I_ told him it was over.”

Robin considers this. “Does it make a difference?”

A pause. “I like to think it does.” Nancy rolls over. She’s crying again, Robin knows this, but she’s scared. She doesn’t know what to do, so she lets Nancy weep quietly into her hand as she tries to go to sleep.

Nancy is brave, though. Robin has no doubts that tomorrow, or maybe the day after, she will be okay. She’s probably braver than anyone Robin knows. She lost her best friend, and kept going. Robin has heard the story in pieces from Steve, but she knows that Nancy is an investigator. She had it all almost figured out by the time they all found each other at Starcourt. 

Starcourt. Robin wishes she could wipe it from her memory. She can’t look at neon lights anymore. It’s stupid, but it’s true. She can’t stand the sight of bright blue, bright pink, anymore. She avoids going out at night. If Starcourt had survived the ordeal they put it through, she would have had to quit her job. And fireworks—she’s already dreading the fourth of July, even though it’s months away.

Robin wonders if Nancy feels the same way. Does she, too, fear anything that might remind her of that night? Does she drift off to sleep every night, thinking about lobbing fireworks at a spider-like creature? But it’s not a spider. It is something worse. It is something so much worse. This freak of nature, this abomination, it will kill them all. They have to just keep throwing fireworks, but with every explosion the light gets brighter, the sounds get louder, Robin is running but her legs don’t work, the exit is ahead but there are Russians with guns pointed at her blocking the way, Steve is screaming as they push a needle into his neck—

Robin wakes sitting upright. Her heart is racing. For a moment, she really thought she was back there. She was fearing for her life again. She shakes, reaching around in the dark for something to hold onto, and she finds Nancy’s hand.

“Hey,” Nancy says, sounding concerned, her voice raspy from sleep. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Robin gasps, and she is. When did she even fall asleep? What time is it? She feels bad for waking Nancy up for something so stupid. “I had a nightmare.” Her voice breaks on the last syllable, and she lets out a sob. She’s furious at herself.

“Shh,” Nancy whispers. “It’s okay, I get them too.” Her other hand finds Robin’s hair and strokes it. Nancy is good at this. She knows what to do. “Lie down, okay?”

“Okay,” Robin whispers, holding another sob back. She lowers herself down, laying her head on the pillow again, facing Nancy. She can feel Nancy’s breaths against her face, slow and controlled. Nancy is still stroking her hair.

“Breathe with me,” Nancy murmurs. “Don’t think, just breathe.”

Robin lets out one last shuddering breath and then breathes in as Nancy does. Then out again, just a fraction after Nancy. Soon, their breaths synchronise. In, out, in, out, in out. It doesn’t sound like two people anymore. Someone else would have counted only a single girl in the room. Robin realises that she’s never going to have to be lonely again. Maybe that’s her tiredness talking, and she’s just delirious from the lack of sleep, but they’ve got something between them. Maybe not exactly what Robin was thinking of the other night, but there’s something.

Nancy’s hand reaching over and holding the back of Robin’s head. Robin holding onto Nancy’s fingers. They are the only two people to exist in the world.

The morning will bring the awkwardness of daylight back to them, but for now, Robin is happy. She is with Nancy, she is understood, and she can sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! as usual, please leave a comment if you have the time, it makes my day! or say hello on tumblr [@inhobbok](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com/)  
> i was so excited to write this chapter, it's been named in my outline as "the hurt/comfort chapter" so hope it lived up to that!! from here, i guess these girls are just going to get closer, especially now that jonathan is out of the picture... things are starting to ramp up!! hope you're excited to read it as i am to write it <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a long wait!! hope you enjoy, and thanks for sticking around <3

Robin wakes up before Nancy. She’s never been able to sleep late, not even when she goes to bed in the early hours of the morning. Sunlight is filtering through Nancy’s curtains, spilling across the bed where they both lay. Robin’s sleep-drenched gaze follows a speck of dust as it floats through the air and lands eventually on Nancy’s cheek. She looks at Nancy—there is no trace of worry or sorrow or fear when she’s sleeping. She doesn’t look particularly happy, just peaceful. She looks so calm. Robin thinks back to the night before, and hopes that Nancy stays asleep for a while longer.

She slips out of the covers and stands up. She stretches her arms up and yawns, then, with a mumbled _aw shit_ , she remembers she has work today. She starts at nine; it’s seven-thirty now. She had planned with Steve to go together in the morning, but she’s not with Steve now. She’s with Nancy, and she’s not about to ask Nancy to drive her to work. She looks at the sleeping girl, admiring the way the sunlight tangles through her eyelashes, and then quietly opens the door and slips out of the room. It’s easier to leave without saying goodbye. Robin doesn’t understand why, but it is.

No one else is up. It’s a Saturday morning, of course they’re all sleeping in. Robin tiptoes down the stairs, shoves her feet into her shoes at the front door, then opens it, slips out, and closes it behind her as gently as she can. She doesn’t want to make any noise, lest she wakes up Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, or Mike, or the baby, or even Nancy. She really doesn’t want Nancy to wake up. What will she think when she wakes to an empty room and no Robin? Maybe it was weird to just leave without saying goodbye. Robin walks home, even though it’s freezing cold. She takes a shower, dresses for work, then jumps on her bike and cycles across town to the Family Video store.

She’s thinking about Nancy still. In the daylight, everything that transpired feels like a dream. Nancy’s room feels like another planet, a separate plane of existence. Robin can’t remember what they said, or what they did. She only remembers comforting Nancy, and going to sleep beside her, and then somehow the roles were switched, and it was Nancy comforting her. If it had been anyone else, Robin would be embarrassed now. But she doesn’t feel like that with Nancy. It just feels right.

They go well together, Robin thinks. Their conversations flow. Robin always knows the right thing to say when she’s with Nancy. It’s like her friendship with Steve. They’re comfortable together. She wonders if Steve and Nancy were like this, too.

Steve is already at the store when Robin arrives. He’s standing behind the counter as a customer pays for a movie. Steve looks over the guy’s shoulder at Robin, and crosses his arms. “Enjoy the movie,” he tells the customer, then leans back and looks at Robin as she shuffles in.

“So,” Steve says, his arms still crossed. “What happened?”

Robin dumps her backpack behind the counter. “She broke up with Jonathan.”

“Ah.” Steve indicates a stack of VHS tapes on the counter. “You’ve got to put those away.”

“Okay.” Most days Robin would tell Steve to _do it yourself, dingus_ , but today she senses something is off. She’s feeling guilty. “Sorry for deserting you last night.”

Steve shrugs. “No big deal.” He’s tapping his fingers rapidly on the counter, one of his nervous tics. Robin knows these well by now. It makes her uneasy.

She picks up the stack of tapes, resting her chin on the top of them. “Everything cool?”

“Yeah.”

Robin scans his face and looks for an answer to the reason he’s off this morning. He betrays nothing, instead turning around to tidy the counter. She finds herself annoyed, though that’s probably unfair. She doesn’t get his problem. Nancy called and she went—surely he would do the same for a friend in need.

There’s a familiar _crunch_ behind them. Robin turns around to see Keith, his hand deep in his Cheetos bag. “Morning,” Keith says, his voice muffled slightly as his mouth is full. “What’s wrong with you two? Trouble in paradise?”

“Piss off,” Robin mutters. She kneels down and starts to put the tapes onto the shelf. She tries to be nice to Keith, she really does, but today she is not feeling nice at all. She’s kind of angry, at herself more than anyone else. Why did she just leave like that in the morning? Is Nancy just waking up now, wondering why Robin just left her?

Maybe Nancy will just think it was all a dream. Robin doesn’t know what she would prefer.

“Steve!”

Robin looks up to see the troupe of Steve’s kid friends barge through the door, led by Dustin who has his arms in the air.

“Henderson!” Steve steps around the side of the counter to greet Dustin and they perform their ridiculously complicated handshake, complete with the lightsaber battle and death scene. Robin notices that Steve isn’t putting as much effort as he normally would into his performance, though. His mind seems to be on other things as he looks over Dustin’s head at Nancy’s brother. “Is she okay?”

Mike shrugs. “I guess?” He glances at Robin. “She was kind of disappointed that you left. She was going to make breakfast or something.”

There it is. Robin feels like she’s been stabbed right in the chest. Of course she should have stayed, who just leaves like that? Sneaking out of the house in the early hours of the morning… She could have waited, pretended to go back to sleep. The thing is, she would have _liked_ that. She would have loved to stay with Nancy. Breakfast would have been dun. They could have chatted over pancakes and attempted normalcy. And she still could have made it to work on time. Why does she always make the wrong decisions?

Dustin looks from Mike to Robin to Steve. “What happened?”

Steve scratches the side of his head, glances around, then says, “Nancy broke up with Jonathan.”

There’s a stunned silence. “What, your sister and Will’s brother?” Lucas asks, looking at Mike.

“Yeah. Can we not announce it to the whole world?”

It’s too late for that, Robin thinks, as Keith uncannily materialises among the group. “Do my ears deceive me?” he asks, his Cheetos bag crinkling as he rummages around for spare snack pieces.

Mike crosses his arms and sighs, looking pointedly at Lucas.

“Your sister’s single?” Keith’s face looks like he just got to the top of the leaderboard in one of his stupid arcade games. Robin’s ready to kill him, but instead of saying anything she goes to check in a few recently returned tapes. There’s a small stack forming on the counter, and she might as well get started on them, amongst the chaos. She has to stamp a little slip of paper with today’s date for each one. She pretends the slips of paper are Keith’s face. It’s very satisfying.

“She’s not _for_ you!” Mike says. “My sister’s not some stupid prize for you to win! She doesn’t want you—or your rash!”

Keith waggles his orange finger. “I will let the comment on my acne slide,” he says, a smug smile on his face. “Now listen here—each of you,” he says, pointing his finger at each of the boys and Steve in turn, “have promised to get me a date with Nancy Wheeler, and there are no more excuses you can make.”

Robin glares at Steve. He used Nancy as a bargaining chip? She stamps another slip of paper, and this time she’s imagining Steve’s face. He catches her eye and hastily tries to salvage the situation. “The excuse is that she’s not going to choose to go out with some douchebag like you.”

Keith turns his gaze on Steve. “And who _is_ she going to choose? You?”

Robin expects Steve to snap at Keith, defend Nancy’s honour and shut him down. But to her disgust, he stands up a bit straighter. He runs a hand through his hair, but this is not a nervous tic. This is King Harrington shining through plain old Steve. “Maybe,” he says. Robin rolls her eyes and goes back to stamping.

“Dude, she broke up with you,” Dustin scoffs. “If she’s going to choose anyone, it’s not going to be you.”

“What, and she’s going to choose some prepubescent tween instead?”

“Prepubescent? I’ll have you know that—”

Keith interrupts Dustin with, “You all owe me one.”

Mike is looking at all of them incredulously. “This is my _sister_ you’re all talking about.” 

“Your sister who is without a boyfriend,” Keith says to him, smirking.

This is the last straw for Robin. She can’t stand“Give her some space, would you?” she snaps. “They only _just_ broke up.”

She stamps the next slip of paper with a little more force than necessary. She’s sick of hearing them all talk about Nancy like she’s just something they could take. Nancy is so much more than a potential girlfriend. She’s kind, and witty, and really, she’s one of Robin’s favourite people. Nancy deserves better than to be spoken about like a trophy they could all claim. And sure, the thought has passed through Robin’s mind too—why wouldn’t it? Nancy is a pretty girl and newly single. But that doesn’t change the fact that a relationship involves mutual attraction, and looking around, Robin can’t imagine that Nancy would ever be attracted to any of them. Steve is bickering with a fourteen-year-old like he’s one himself, Keith has Cheeto dust smeared on his cheek, and Robin…

Well, Robin is Robin.

Max puts her hands on her hips. “Robin’s right. Nancy doesn’t have to _choose_ anyone. You all think too highly of yourselves.” She glances at Robin and raises her eyebrows as if to say, _can you believe these guys?_

Robin’s reassured by this. She’s got someone on her side, at least.

Steve raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering. “Fair. Fair. She deserves the space.” He looks pointedly at Keith.

Keith shrugs. “You all owe me,” he says ominously, and slinks away.

“Ugh,” Mike shudders.

Steve snorts. “Don’t worry about him. He’s all talk.”

“Still,” Mike says, glaring at Keith’s back. “He’s disgusting.”

“Boys will be boys, isn’t that what they say?” Max chirps, her hand finding Lucas’s and squeezing it. It looks like it hurts. “If he gives Nancy any trouble, you better kick his ass, Steve.”

Steve does a little mock bow. “Gladly.”

The kids leave after a while, fighting over where they’re all going to watch the movie they just rented (for free, of course—Steve isn’t going to make them pay). _A Nightmare on Elm Street_. Robin would be worried about the kids watching a scary movie, but they’ve seen enough horror in real life. She expects this will barely faze them.

Steve makes several attempts at conversation during their day of work, but Robin doesn’t reciprocate. Her mind is elsewhere. Nancy, mostly. The previous night was something special. Robin is treasuring that memory forever. Nancy’s hand reaching over and holding the back of Robin’s head. Robin holding onto Nancy’s fingers. She’s definitely not going to tell Steve about it. She’s scared that by trying to articulate it, she’ll ruin it. The moment muddied by language. It’s better to think of it as abstract. Whatever happened in Nancy’s room, it can’t be explained clearly. It just has to be remembered.

Robin remembers it in little details. Nancy’s fingers. A tear rolling down her cheek. The way her shoulders shook as she explained how it all happened. Her hoarse whisper at the end of the night. Her smile, when it escaped.

_Son sourire, j’en rêve jour et nuit._ She would not dare think that in English, let alone speak it aloud. But this thought exists, and it makes Robin’s heart flutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! if you liked, please leave kudos and a comment if you have the time. it's been a while since i last updated, and i've been under a bit of stress from school stuff, but it truly was all your sweet comments that motivated me to keep writing! so i hope this lives up to expectations lmao.  
> also, obligatory notice: i don't speak french. all phrases i've used in this fic are from online dictionaries and two minute grammar lessons from google. if you DO speak french (or italian or spanish, when those inevitably appear in this fic) and i've made a mistake, please let me know!!   
> and yeah, i'm not going to translate that phrase here. you can look it up if you really want to know what it is. or not. it's up to you :)  
> say hi on tumblr, i'm @inhobbok


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo sorry for the long wait, i know it's been almost two weeks. i've been absolutely swamped with schoolwork, but i have a two-week break after next week so i should be back to updating semi-regularly again soon. <3 hope you like this chapter!!

Nancy and Jonathan have been broken up for a week, and Robin has not seen Nancy this entire time. 

Robin doesn’t want to blame herself for this. Nancy is probably busy. Or, she’s just mourning a lost relationship. It’s not like Robin did anything _wrong_. More likely, Nancy just isn’t in the mood for movies. There’s no other reason for her to go to the Video Store, is there? That’s the only way Robin would see her. It’s not like she would just go to Robin’s house, and Robin isn’t going back to Nancy’s.

But a week ago, Nancy and Robin were lying in the same bed. It seems like another person’s life.

“I just really hope she’s not mad at me,” Robin says aloud, staring at Steve’s ceiling.

Steve’s parents are home this week, which is out of the ordinary, so Robin and Steve have been forced to hang out in his room. Robin hates it: the wallpaper is ugly as hell, and it smells like boy. They’re lying on the floor, Robin’s legs up on Steve’s bed, Steve throwing a tennis ball up into the air and catching it over and over.

“Why would she be mad at you?” Steve asks. The tennis ball thumps against the ceiling and he flings his arm out to catch it. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing!” But that’s exactly it. Robin feels like she hasn’t done enough. She should have comforted Nancy better, done more. Now they’re in an awkward stalemate, and Robin doesn’t know who should make the first move.

Steve throws the tennis ball up and catches it. “I think you’re overthinking things.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Robin snaps. She glares up at the ceiling.

Steve props himself up on an elbow and looks at her. “Geez, Rob, what do you want me to do?” He throws the tennis ball at her knees. It rolls down her legs and lands on her stomach. “Can we talk about something else? For both of our sakes?”

Robin grabs the ball and throws it at him, hard. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

He dodges the ball. “I don’t know. How the hell do you know so many languages?”

Robin snorts. “Do you really care so much?”

Steve shrugs, sitting up. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

This hits Robin. She and Steve, they know each other well. _Really_ well. Better than most best friends know each other. They’ve been in danger together, they’ve been vulnerable together, they’ve been scared shitless together. Robin’s grateful for this: she’s always had trouble making friends, but with Steve she didn’t have to put any effort in. Sometimes, though, Robin misses the weird little ritual of making a friend. What’s your favourite colour? Favourite song? What’s your best subject in school? If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, alive or dead, who would it be? All these inane details, that Robin could never have any use for, are coming up like blank pages in a book, and not knowing the whole story is frustrating. She knows Steve in the ways that matter, but it’s the ways that don’t matter that seem more important now. It’s like they skipped from strangers to best friends, and missed everything in between.

“Okay,” Robin says, because she gets why Steve is so curious now. “Um, my mom’s French. So I was sort of born knowing it. I learned Italian from my neighbour when I was a kid. And, uh, Spanish from a book in freshman year.”

Steve nods. “From a book? You’re a damn genius, you know that?”

“Hardly.” But she’s smiling. 

Steve says, “Can you teach me something?”

“Do you really trust me?”

“Yeah.” Steve grins. “Uh, I’ll say a word and a language, and you tell me what it is.”

Robin has played this stupid game a thousand times. The kids in elementary school made her play it all the time, and occasionally the more obnoxious people in her middle school class would ask her too. No one cared in high school. But here, Robin sees that Steve _does_ care. “Fine,” she says.

“Okay.” Steve purses his lips, thinking. “Uh, okay. Robin smells, in Italian.”

Robin raises her eyebrows.

“Play the damn game, Robin.”

She rolls her eyes. “ _Robin puzza._ ”

Steve snorts, then starts laughing. Robin reaches up and grabs a pillow from Steve’s bed, then throws it at him. “You are _such_ a dingus. What are you, five years old?”

He sticks his tongue out at her, as if to prove her point. “Say it in French.”

Robin glares at him.

He gives up quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, then. How d’you say Steve Harrington is the best, in Spanish?”

“Fuck you.”

“Rules are rules, Robin,” he says sweetly.

She sighs. “ _Steve Harrington es el mejor_.”

“Ha!” Steve grins at her, that stupid doofus grin Robin has grown so accustomed to. It’s the staple of all of their best memories. Joyrides through Hawkins, late nights, swimming in his pool, avoiding responsibilities at work. It’s infectious. 

“There it is!” Steve announces, as the corners of Robin’s mouth lift. “A smile! Ladies and gentlemen, I never thought I’d see this day.”

“Shut up,” Robin tells him, fighting the smile. But then, why is she fighting it? There’s no reason to. It doesn’t make sense that she fights against every good thing that happens to her. She’s allowed to be happy. She lets her grin broaden.

“Beautiful, Robin,” Steve says, and although he’s saying it in a silly mocking voice, there’s a part of it that Robin knows is real. “Tell me, how do you say, her smile is so beautiful, in French?”

Robin’s grin immediately drops. She’s thinking of another smile, another bedroom. “Um, _son sourire est très beau_ ,” she says, her voice devoid of the humour it had earlier. There’s something else there now.

Steve does not notice. “Ah, _son sourire est très beau_!” His accent is shit, but he doesn’t seem to care as he settles himself down to lie on the floor again, his hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

“Who the hell are you talking about?” Robin asks, trying to bring some levity back into the situation.

Steve glances at her. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

This is not what Robin was expecting. She thought he’d tell her to shut up, say it was _her_ and pretend to confess his love again, or just laugh and give her another phrase to translate. Things like this always seem to go much smoothly in her head. She swallows. “Yeah, I promise.”

He nods, then looks back up at the ceiling. “It’s Nancy.”

Robin feels like the air has been knocked right out of her chest.

In hindsight, she should have seen this coming. Since Robin has known Nancy, Steve has been flirting with her. That first French phrase Robin taught him in the Video Store, that he tried on her. Inviting her to the movie night. His jealousy when Nancy chose to hang out with Robin instead of him. The signs have been clear, but Robin has been covering her eyes. Of course she was.

“Oh,” she says after a while. “Shit.” There’s not much else to say.

“Yeah,” Steve says heavily.

There’s silence between them. This is why they usually steer clear of serious things. They don’t know how to deal with each other, or how to recover. Things just become uncomfortable. What is Robin supposed to say now? Sometimes, she wishes life came with instructions, like a sheet of music where she can see where every note is supposed to be, and she knows how to play it. There are no music sheets in life, not instructions. There’s no script for Robin to read off now. This is it: this is her life.

“I know it’s stupid.” Steve is talking more to himself than to Robin, she senses. His voice is flat, with the edge of hope creeping in. “But it feels right now. We’ve grown up. We’ve figured ourselves out better, I think. And, you know, I don’t think it’s just me. I mean, look how often she’s in the store lately.”

It is true that Nancy has been visiting the store a lot lately. It’s just that Robin didn’t think it was for Steve. But what did she think? That Nancy was coming in for _her_ instead? Stupid, stupid.

“And you know, she’s single again now.” Steve looks at Robin for a reaction.

“They broke up only a week ago,” Robin says. She looks up at the ceiling, determined not to show Steve how she really feels. It’s humiliating.

Steve nods slowly, then looks at her, almost like he’s ashamed. “Is that your only objection?” he asks.

It isn’t. It barely scratches the surface. Robin’s main objection is this: that, if this goes according to Steve’s plan, Nancy will be dating someone else. She’ll have a boyfriend to interrupt their conversations. They won’t be able to hang out together as often, because she’ll be busy with Steve. And if they do hang out, Robin will be a third wheel. Robin’s main objection is that she doesn’t want to give up the precious little of Nancy she already has.

“Yeah,” Robin says, swallowing. “It is.”

“Okay,” Steve says. “Cool.”

Robin rolls herself over and brings her legs around her head so she’s sitting upright, her back against the bed. She picks at a thread on one of her socks, determining her mind away from Nancy and onto Steve. No matter what she’s feeling right now, he is still her best friend. She’s going to be here for him, goddamn it. She asks him, “You going to do anything about it?”

“Maybe,” Steve muses. “I think so, yeah. I’m going to go by her house tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Robin pulls the thread loose. She looks up. He’s looking at her, smiling tentatively. She smiles back at him—strained, unnatural, but it’s a smile. This is Robin giving him her blessing. What right does she have to withhold it?

She crosses her arms, closes her eyes, and wonders if Steve likes Nancy’s smile as much as she does. _Son sourire est très beau,_ she thinks, yeah, that’s right. She just hopes that Nancy is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! as usual, if you enjoyed, please leave kudos and a comment if you have the time—it would be very much appreciated. also, my ask box and messages are always open on tumblr, where i am [@inhobbok](https://inhobbok.tumblr.com/).  
> again, sorry for the long wait and the lack of robin/nancy content. next chapter will feature the girls back together again !!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is going to Nancy's house tonight to, uh, confess his love. Robin finds herself caught in the middle of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit. it has been TOO long. i'm very sorry for disappearing for 2 months, here is the tenth chapter to try make up for it lol

The sky outside is darkening, white clouds turning purple. The stream of customers, which is steady during the day, is beginning to slow. A man and his daughter are browsing the children’s films aisle, but apart from them, Steve and Robin are the only two people in the video store. There isn’t much to do.

Steve leans over the counter and looks at Robin. “Hey,” he says, “why don’t you go home? I can close up and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says. She looks at him, an eyebrow raised. “Any plans tonight? Are you going to…”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, I am.”

“Great.” It definitely isn’t great. “Good luck.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it up so it has even more volume than normal. It’s another one of his habits that Robin recognises as his _impressing girls_ ritual. “I don’t need luck,” he tells her, but she can hear the anxiety in his voice.

She scoffs. “Okay, lover boy.” It’s easier to joke like this and pretend everything is fine. The truth is, things _are_ fine. Robin has made up this problem in her head: it is a simple fabrication of her mind, nothing more. She is not entitled to Nancy’s company, nor to have monopoly of Nancy’s time. That’s ridiculous. So why does Steve’s plan to ask out Nancy send her stomach tying itself into knots?

She swings her backpack over her shoulder and climbs onto her bike. Her Walkman, which clips onto her backpack strap, plays the new album from The Cure as she cycles home. She bought it last week, and she’s been looking forward to listening to it—unfortunately, her mind is elsewhere, and she barely registers any of the lyrics.

At home, she takes a long shower, standing under the hot water and letting it stream down her face, collecting at her chin and dropping onto the floor. She finds herself closing her eyes, imagining a warm hand caressing her cheek instead of water.She opens her eyes and bites the inside of her cheek hard. She can’t spend time on this.

The phone ringing from the kitchen forces her back into reality. “Shit,” she mutters, twisting the shower tap to off and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself. She dashes into the kitchen, almost breaking her neck on the way as she slips down the hallway, and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” she says, as if she was standing near the phone anyway.

“Robin?” Nancy’s voice, to Robin’s complete and utter shock. Immediately she starts to imagine all that might have happened in the meantime. Has Steve already been there? Is that why Nancy’s calling? For help? For support? For… No, Robin won’t think about that.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she manages.

Nancy sounds chirpy, not at all as if she’s had a difficult conversation with Steve. “Oh! Great. Hey, I was just calling to see if you were doing anything tonight, because I thought… I’m, just, _really_ lonely. If you’re not doing anything, do you want to come over?”

“Yes,” Robin says, maybe too quickly. “I mean, yeah, I’m not doing anything. I can—I can come.” She pauses. “Did anything happen?”

“Huh? No,” Nancy says. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Robin puts her forehead to the wall, holding the phone close to her ear. “Doesn’t matter. Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll be there soon.”

Robin sticks to the main roads as she rides her bike to Nancy’s house, speeding up between the pools of light that the streetlamp make. It’s really fucking scary to be out alone at night like this, but hey, she gets to spend the night with Nancy. You win some, you lose some.

She stops a few doors down from the house and climbs off her bike, deciding to walk it the rest of the way so she can catch her breath. She doesn’t want to turn up a sweaty mess. It doesn't take long for the night air to begin to chill her.

She’s starting to second-guess herself. It’s a pretty stupid idea to go over when she knows Steve is going to come as well—but Nancy said she’s lonely, and Robin is feeling the same way. It’s not a crime for two girls to hang out. Even if the circumstances here are a little complicated. Robin doesn’t have to live her life according to Steve’s.

Nancy answers the door with a smile. “You rode your bike here?” she asks, looking down. “In the dark?”

Robin shrugs. “No big deal,” she says, even though it is when it’s so dark outside.

Nancy raises her eyebrows. “Sure. Bring your bike around to the garage, you can leave it there. I’ll open the door, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Robin says. Nancy closes the door and her footsteps fade away.

Robin turns around and wheels the bike to the garage. Nancy is already waiting for her by the door there, grinning. “Just lean it on the wall next to Mike’s. Come in, quick, it’s cold out here.”

Robin does as Nancy tells her and runs inside, her arms around herself.

“You must be freezing,” Nancy says. “I can’t believe you rode your bike.”

“Well, I can’t drive,” Robin shrugs.

Mr. Wheeler is asleep in the armchair by the TV. His quiet snores fill the room and, even though they’re a little annoying, there’s something about the way he sits there with the light of the TV flickering, illuminating the room, that makes Robin ache for a life like Nancy’s. A normal suburban middle-class life. Mrs. Wheeler sticks her head out from the kitchen and waves at Robin. “Have fun, girls,” she says, and Robin manages to smile in response.

“It’s do _dark_ out there,” Nancy continues, oblivious to just how perfectly average her life is, leading Robin up the stairs. “I can’t—I hate the dark now. Can’t stop thinking,” she says, lowering her voice as she checks over the bannisters, “about what could be in it.”

Robin blinks. “I didn’t think about it, really.”

Nancy smiles, tight-lipped. “What were you thinking about then?”

_You_. “I don’t know. Something else.”

Nancy grins. They go into her room and she closes the door behind them. It could be just Robin’s imagination, but the atmosphere is electrifying. Nancy stands there looking at her for a couple of seconds, then turns around to fix a vinyl onto her record player.“What kinda music do you like?” she asks.

“Whatever,” Robin replies.

Nancy nods, putting on a vinyl. It starts to play. She turns around to Robin, nodding her head to the music. “This one?”

Robin smiles. It’s _Lovergirl,_ Teena Marie. Nancy starts to dance, grinning at Robin the whole time. “Oh, come on,” she says, “it won’t hurt you to move a bit.”

“I can’t dance,” Robin protests weakly. She’s just self-conscious, feeling too big, too clumsy, to match Nancy. She doesn’t want to make a fool of herself.

“Come _on,_ ” Nancy whines, grabbing Robin’s hands and pulling her over. “I don’t care if you’re—the _worst_ dancer in the world. It’s not about your moves, it’s about _you_. Relax, Robin. It’s just me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Robin says. It’s Nancy. There is no _just_ about it.

Nancy is still smiling. The chorus of the song builds, and she sings along, looking at Robin in a way that makes her heart flutter. “ _I just want to be — your — lovergirl_!” she half-sings, half-shouts. She closes her eyes and turns around under Robin’s hand. Robin’s heart is in overdrive. Nancy’s energy is infectious. It’s moments like these that Robin forgets about time. It’s just her, and Nancy, and Nancy’s smile.

Nancy steps out, holding Robin’s hand, then spins so she’s wrapped up in Robin’s arm.They sway there like middle-schoolers for a bit.

“I don’t dance either,” Nancy says. “Not usually.” She looks up at Robin. “Count yourself lucky.” She dances away before Robin can say, _I already do_.

The doorbell rings suddenly, faint over the music. Robin stops dancing. Nancy looks at her weirdly. “Don’t worry about it, Mom will get it. At this time of night it’s probably just the neighbour anyway.”

Robin knows it’s not the neighbour. She can’t say this to Nancy, of course, but she knows. Nancy keeps dancing, but it isn’t long before Mrs. Wheeler’s voice calling “Nancy!” comes through the door.

Nancy frowns, then crosses the room and turns the song off. “One minute,” she says, then disappears into the hallway, leaving Robin alone in the room.

Robin stands very still, listening to Nancy’s footsteps down the door. Then—“Steve?”

She winces. She has a choice here: stay in the room, or go and find out what’s happening. She can’t hear anything from in here, but to go out would make Steve hate her. Then again, Nancy will probably tell Steve that she’s here. To stay in here is suspicious. But… Robin grapples with herself for what feels like minutes, then thinks, _fuck it, I want to see_.

She quietly steps out the door, careful not to bring attention to herself. Standing on the stairs, she can see down to the front door. Steve is still outside, holding a bunch of flowers, and Nancy is facing him. She’s saying something Robin can’t hear, but Robin doesn’t dare get closer. Then Nancy nods, reaches her arms up and hugs Steve. He has his eyes closed—thank God, thinks Robin—but then he opens them, looking directly at her. She freezes.

Nancy pulls back and Steve wrenches his eyes from Robin to her. Nancy takes his face in her hands and, well, Robin doesn’t know what happens next because she turns and runs back up the stairs. She leans against the bannister, her hand shaking slightly. She forces it to stop. She knows what happened. It should not be a surprise. Nancy said she was lonely. Nancy has no boyfriend. Nancy wanted one. What right does Robin have to be upset? Every time she thinks she might have a chance, it’s ripped away from her. _Welcome to reality, it sucks_. _Get used to it._

Nancy comes up the stairs. Robin turns around and scans her face, searching for some trace of emotion. An explanation, for whatever just transpired. She does not show much. There is something in the way her brows are furrowed—like confusion, almost, but that makes no sense.

“What happened?” Robin manages.

Nancy raises her brows, her chest rising as she takes a deep breath. “Steve and I are… back together,” she says. She looks almost apologetic, but that could be Robin’s imagination. A projection. Maybe Robin _wants_ her to be apologetic.

“Oh.” It does not hurt as much as Robin expects it to. It’s just more of the same. She can’t be jealous of Steve. She doesn’t want what Steve and Nancy have. She wants something different. Something more. She’s starting to think it doesn’t exist. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t really know. He said we should go on a date tomorrow. I don’t… I don’t know what he means.” Nancy goes back into her room, and Robin follows her. She sits down, looks at Robin. It’s horribly silent in here. Nancy bites her lip. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Robin hesitates. “Does it make you happy?”

Nancy nods, after some hesitation Robin thinks. “Yeah. It does.”

“Then no.” Robin sits down beside her. “It’s not a bad idea.” It’s almost painful to say it.

“Okay.” Nancy still appears to be thinking about something, but about what, Robin can’t tell. It’s like she is still making up her mind. But that’s stupid—she just made her decision. She chose Steve. 

“Why?” Robin asks. “No offence, but why?”

Nancy looks at the ceiling. “I guess I’m lonely. I miss having someone to… well,” she says, looking back at Robin, “you know.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, her eyes on Nancy’s lips.

“And I guess,” Nancy says, “Steve’s easy.”

Robin snorts, despite herself. “Steve’s _easy_?”

“Not like that,” Nancy says, then giggles. “Well, yeah, kind of like that. But also, I know him. And he’s good company. And I just want a boyfriend, is that so bad?” She looks at Robin, eyebrows raised.

“No,” Robin says. “No, I get it.”

“Do you?” Nancy asks, looking at Robin dead in the eyes.

Robin swallows. Her eyes flick from Nancy’s eyes, away to her lips, her collarbones, the wall behind her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy says. She looks down, picking at a thread on the blanket. “Shit,” she breathes. “Want to hang out tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin answers, probably too quickly.

Nancy nods. “Great.” She looks up again. “Steve and I kissed.” She looks like she’s asking a question, but Robin can’t figure out what answer she’s searching for is.

She smiles. “I’m… I’m really happy for you.”

To Robin’s surprise, Nancy throws her arms around her and hugs her tightly. After a moment, Robin thinks to hug her back. It’s nice. _Even this_ , Robin thinks. _Even this is enough_.

“You’re the best,” Nancy murmurs into her shoulder.

Robin doesn’t know how to reply to that. She doesn’t believe it.

It’s late. Robin and Nancy, again, have squeezed themselves onto Nancy’s bed. They face each other, their heads sharing a pillow, their faces unbearably close. Only the lamp beside the bed is on, casting long shadows across Nancy’s face. Their eyes are open.

“What are you thinking about?” Robin whispers.

“I’m thinking about how we never even spoke to each other in high school,” Nancy whispers back. “I’m thinking that I missed out.” She smiles. It’s infectious.

There are a thousand things Robin could say to Nancy right now. But she can only think of one. _Son sourire, j’en rêve jour et nuit_. _Sogno il suo sorriso di giorno e di notte_. _Sueño con su sonrisa noche y día._

Nancy reaches over and turns off her light.

“Nance?” Robin says to the dark.

“Yeah?”

“Steve’s lucky to have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, especially after so long. shit happens, you know? exams, depression, etc. anyway, i'm back babey!! please leave kudos and a comment if you have the time, your kind words really helped me through a tough time <3 even if i wasn't writing, i was still reading everything you all wrote. thank you so much <33
> 
> um. yeah. the plot thickens!! don't worry, it all ends happily eventually .. but there may be a bit of drama in the near future. you get it.
> 
> next update may take a while (i have two weeks left of school) but after that it's summer holidays (southern hemisphere !!) so i should be updating a bit more regularly than i was before. at least, it won't be months in between chapters.
> 
> also, check out my tumblr which is @inhobbok, love yall <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wait a minute... an update ? after literally 5 months?  
> i guess quarantine gets the best of all of us eventually. here we go!

Robin wakes to Nancy’s voice, way too cheerful for the morning. It takes her a moment to realise that Nancy isn’t talking to her, but into the receiver on her bedside phone. She’s giggling and saying “Steve, no, come on,” so Robin feels perfectly comfortable interrupting the conversation.

“What time is it?” she yawns, throwing a hand over her face to block out the glare of morning sunlight.

Nancy looks over. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Glad you stayed over this time,” she adds, grinning. “Steve! Nancy just woke up. Say hi!” She holds the phone to Robin’s ear.

“Hi,” Robin groans.

“What the hell are you doing there?” Steve asks, but Nancy pulls the phone back before Robin can answer.

“So, what do you think?” Nancy asks. “Or do you have other plans?” She pauses, listening. “Hang on.” She turns to Robin. “Steve said he can drive us to the mall over in Kerley Park. Is that cool with you?”

“Yeah, totally,” Robin says, stilly foggy with sleep.

“Okay, great.” Nancy grins again, that wonderful grin. Robin doesn’t have the strength to even think about what malls mean right now. 

Robin sits in the backseat of the car, of course. Steve drives, one hand on the wheel and the other holding Nancy’s. The trip to Kerley Park is about an hour, but it’s the only place nearby that is decent for shopping. And Nancy seemed so excited—Robin isn’t really into shopping and she knows Steve isn’t either, but they’re going to grit their teeth and do this for Nancy. It’s nice, anyway, to spend some time all together. Robin is kind of uncomfortable, sure. But that’s a pretty constant state of being these days.

“It’s nice to hang out all together when neither of you are working,” Nancy says.

“Yeah, sure is,” Steve says, squeezing her hand. Robin has the feeling that he doesn’t really want her there, but she and Nancy made plans to hang out today first. _He’s_ intruding, not Robin.

“So,” Robin says, leaning forward in between the front seats. “What’s our plan of attack?”

Nancy shrugs. “I guess just wander around. I think it’s good to get out of Hawkins.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Robin says, fiddling with a seam on the drivers’ seat.

“You know, we can buy some clothes, check out the bookstore, some ice cream…” Nancy trails off. “Shit, sorry.”

“Am I going to be following you two through all the change rooms in Kerley Mall all day?” Steve asks smoothly, glossing over Nancy’s breaking of the unspoken rule among them: don’t talk about _it_.

Robin laughs too loudly.

Nancy punches his arm playfully. “Yeah, you can be our bag boy. Hold all our new things. That’s what I’ve got you around for.” She smiles at him, and Robin can’t help but feel a stab of jealousy, that the smile is meant for Steve and not her. It’s totally, completely juvenile and selfish, she knows. It doesn’t stop her thinking about how much she hates the way that they’re so comfortable with each other, how they’ve fallen back into being the star couple of Hawkins High. The casual way his thumb rubs the back of her hand. The way she looks at him adoringly as if they were on a movie poster. The little glances he gives her, when the road is clear. She even almost resents Steve in general, for how happy he seems. And that’s so stupid, it’s so mean that she wouldn’t want him to be happy when he’s her best friend. He’s supposed to be her priority, right?

“Hey, don’t they have a cinema at Kerley? We could watch that Elmo movie,” Steve suggests.

“St. Elmo’s Fire,” Robin says. She cringes, not only at how obnoxious she sounds correcting him but also the thought of a cinema. She hasn’t been inside one since Starcourt. She can’t stand the darkness.

They’re all thinking the same thing, and they have been the whole way. There’s a brief silence. Nancy coughs.

“Well, I’m just hungry,” Steve says, trying to break the tension. It doesn’t really work. Robin glances at Nancy, who is chewing her lip.

Robin is beginning to feel the way she usually feels when these topics come up. The heaviness in her chest, the pounding in her ears, the twisting of her stomach. She doesn’t _want_ to think about this. She wants to go to a mall like a normal person. She closes her eyes and tries to think about happier things, but all she sees is the glow of neon lights burned into her eyelids. Her stomach hurts. Steve’s car doesn’t help either, the suspension is shot so they’re bouncing all over the place after every tiny bump in the road. 

“Pull over,” she says.

Steve looks over his shoulder. “Huh?”

“Pull over.”

“Why?”

“Steve! Just—fucking—pull over!”

“Okay, fine, fine, fine,” he mutters, slamming on the brakes and pulling onto the side of the road.

Robin opens the door and stumbles out of the car, barely making it a few steps before she vomits all over the side of the road. She hears the other car doors open and she knows Nancy and Steve are watching her. She’s too embarrassed to turn around right away. She wipes her mouth with the back of her shaking hand.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin answers. She straightens up, slightly dizzy. Her heart is still beating too fast.

“You sure?”

“I’m fine,” she snaps.

Steve nods, and heads back towards the car. He realises that she’s not fine, of course, but he and Robin have a routine. They know exactly what the other is thinking, and then act like they have no clue.

Nancy throws her hands up in the air. “Oh my God,” she says, laughing without mirth.

“What?” Steve asks.

Nancy shakes her head, looking from Robin to Steve and then at the ground. “Can we _please_ just talk about it?” She looks at Robin. “I know what you’re thinking. You know what you’re thinking.We’re going to a mall! We hate malls! Can we _please_ stop pretending like we haven’t all been thinking about the same thing the whole way here?”

Robin kicks at the ground, not daring to meet Nancy’s eyes. She feels like she’s being scolded by a teacher or something. Nancy’s right, of course. She usually is. It doesn’t make this any more welcome.

Nancy crosses her arms. “Fine. I’ll go first. I have to leave a light on when I sleep because I’m scared of the dark still. One time my mom came in after I fell asleep and I woke up and saw that _thing_ in the corner of my room.” She looks angrily at Steve. “You. Go.”

“Nance—”

“Steve!” She glares at him.

“Okay, fine. You know that bat we made? I kept it in my car for a whole year after we first had to use it, just in case it came back. And—I always speed when I drive past the woods, because when I go slow I see too many shadows.” He bites his lip, then looks up. “Robin?”

Robin avoids his gaze and looks at Nancy. She’s not crying, but her eyes are shining. Robin steels herself. “Every night I have the same dream, where I’m strapped to that chair underneath Starcourt and I’m just waiting. And I hear _you_ ,” she says, looking at Steve, “screaming behind me. I don’t know—I don’t know what they’re doing to you. I just know that I’m next.” She pushes her hair out of her eyes angrily. “Shit.”

“Okay,” Nancy says. “Good. Can we swear to be honest with each other now?”

“Yes,” Robin says immediately.

Steve looks between them. “Okay, yes.”

“Good,” Nancy says, her arms still crossed. Her eyes are shining still. Steve looks down at the ground, his face hidden by his hair.

A car drives past, with a young guy’s head sticking out the passenger side. “Show us your tits!” he yells, speeding past.

“Hey fuck you!” Steve screams after him, but the car is long gone.

It’s the perfect snapping of tension. Robin bursts out laughing. A moment later, Nancy does too. Steve looks lost for a second, then cracks into a grin. Robin doubles over and holds her stomach, but this time it’s a good kind of pain. She feels unburdened, finally. Maybe not completely, but she’s put something down. She doesn’t have to carry it all anymore, or maybe it’s just that she doesn’t have to carry it alone.

Once they regain their sensibilities, Steve slaps the side of car. “Should we… should we go home?”

“God, no,” Robin says. “After coming all this way?”

Nancy slides onto the bonnet, pulling Steve toward her. “You promised me a mall date, so I’m getting it.” She looks past Steve’s shoulder at Robin, who feels her chest tighten in a much less scary way. “ _Both_ of you did, actually.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Steve says. He kisses Nancy, then looks at Robin. “I’d give you one too, seeing as apparently we’re all in this together, but you’d taste like puke.”

Robin sticks her finger up at him. Nancy laughs.

They pile back into the car, and this time it’s so much less tense. They don’t talk about Starcourt, but they don’t avoid it either. It’s like Nancy’s knocked down some sort of wall that they all built between each other. Suddenly, things are easy.

Well, most things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, hopefully you liked the chapter, which is LONG overdue. i got distracted with real life, i got bored, i moved away from the stranger things fandom... and then i saw all these new comments piling in, i guess because we all have way too much time on our hands these days. now i'm inspired to finish this thing. and i PROMISE it will be finished. i can't say when exactly, but it will be finished. i have a plan.
> 
> hopefully you're all staying safe in these scary times, and i hope my fic provides you with a shred of that escapism we're all craving <3 lots of love to all of you, it means so much that people are still reading this thing!
> 
> (also pls if u didn't like this one too much, because i know it's not reallyyy what most of the rest of this fic has been, i promise the next one is going to be so much better. i know this has little to do with the romance plot. stay with me, it gets better.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet u weren't expecting i'd be back again after two days. what can i say, i'm full of surprises :) enjoy!!

Steve dips his spoon into Robin’s sundae and takes way too much. Robin glares at him, though her anger is more for not enjoying his food rather than stealing hers. She doesn’t really mind sharing, but what she _does_ mind is the way Steve inhales it. He swallows his massive scoop of ice cream in seconds, so fast that he probably doesn’t even taste it. Robin, on the other hand, is really enjoying her ice cream.

It’s been a while since she was able to simply enjoy something like this.

Even after Nancy snapped at them and they agreed to be honest, Robin was apprehensive about the mall. Less apprehensive than she had been earlier, but still. Usually she would have simply grit her teeth and dealt with it in her own way, but she wanted to honour Nancy’s intentions. They swore to be honest to each other.

“I’m kinda scared still,” Robin said, leaning forward between the seats.

Nancy looked at her. “Me too.” And then she reached out and grabbed Robin’s hand, and they held onto each other as they walked into the mall, which turned out not to be that scary at all.

It’s actually pretty good. There are plenty of things to do; Robin found a record store that turned out to be owned by a couple of twenty-somethings with great taste, and the food court is far better than what was at Starcourt. This ice cream even rivals Scoops Ahoy, which Robin has always thought probably had some of the best ice cream ever, no matter what happened there.

Steve tries to sneak his spoon back into Robin’s sundae but she swats his hand away. “Eat your own ice cream.”

“I finished it already,” he whines.

Robin shrugs. “That’s your own stupid fault.”

Steve screws up his nose at her, then steals a scoop anyway. “I paid for it,” he says, with some level of apology. 

“Yeah, but it was a gift. It’s like, if I gave you a birthday present and then a couple of months later took it back because I paid for it. Once you give it away…” She trails off, because Steve is obviously not paying attention anymore. She follows his gaze to Nancy, who is chatting with the girl working at the ice cream shop. She’s smiling, every now and then glancing at Steve. The girl giggles, then leans close to Nancy to tell her something. Nancy covers her mouth as she laughs.

“She’s so good at that,” Steve murmurs.

“At what?”

“Just… being a person.” Steve smiles faintly. “She doesn’t have to— she doesn’t have to practise. You know what I mean?”

Robin swallows. “Yeah.”

Steve turns to Robin, but it takes a moment longer for him to tear his eyes away from Nancy. From his girlfriend. _He really likes her_ , Robin realises. _He’s not letting her go easily._ It’s not like she wants Steve to let her go, anyway. They seem happy together. She wouldn’t want that ruined. Not for her sake.

Steve hesitates for a second. “You’ve gotta help me, Rob,” he says.

Robin narrows her eyes at him. “With what?”

“I wanna…” He runs his hand through his hair. “I want to do things she likes.”

Robin smirks at him. “Are you asking me for tips, Harrington?”

“No! Robin!” he hisses, jabbing his elbow into her shoulder.

Robin rubs her arm. “Geez, okay. What do you want?”

Steve shrugs. “I guess, she’s happy around you.” He looks at her like he expects an answer.

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Steve, you know she likes you. Like, she wouldn’t have said yes again if she didn’t like you.”

He runs a hand through his hair again. “I know.” He chews his lip, looking at Nancy again. “She likes French. Teach me something else?”

“Oh, my god.”

“Please, Robin.” Steve clasps his hands in front of his chest like he’s begging. “Come on, for me. Do me a favour. I’ll _never_ ask again, okay?”

Robin sighs in resignation, even though the less rational side of her brain is screaming at her not to do anything that’s going to encourage Nancy’s affection for him. “Fine. What do you want to say?”

Steve looks over at Nancy again, who is grinning at the girl she’s talking to. “I want to tell her that she’s… something about her smile. You know?”

Robin nods. She knows. She definitely knows. The first thing she thinks is _ton sourire, j’en rêve jour et nuit_. She knows it would be a lovely thing to say. Nancy would probably melt if Steve said that to her, she’d probably marry him right there and then. It’s for that reason that Robin doesn’t tell it to Steve. They’ve got to take it slow, she attempts to reason to herself, but she knows that’s not why she’s holding back. “Ton sourire est très beau,” she tells him, and she still hates herself for it. There’s a part of her—a silly, irrational part of her—that wishes she could say it to Nancy herself. It’s always been Nancy’s smile. 

“Ton sourire est très beau,” Steve repeats slowly. “Sounds good. What does it mean?”

Robin sighs. “You’re calling her pretty. It’s good.”

Nancy leaves a couple of dollar bills in the tip jar, waving goodbye at the girl, and heads back towards them holding her bowl with two vanilla scoops and chocolate sauce. “Miss me?” she asks sweetly.

Steve pulls her to his side. “You don’t know how much.” He leans down to kiss her, and, while she’s sdistracted, steals a spoonful of ice cream. Robin rolls her eyes.

Nancy pulls back and looks down at her bowl. “Steve!” she half-shrieks, smacking his arm. He only grins at her. She shakes her head at him and proceeds to gulp down her ice cream with near criminal speed to match Steve’s. They’re a match made in heaven, Robin thinks, much to her disgust.

“So,” Robin says, trying to fill the silence. “What’s next?”

Nancy looks conspiratorial. “Nous pouvons laisser Steve?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

Steve perks up at the mention of his name, frowning between them. “What did you say?” He turns to Robin. “What did she say?”

Robin ignores him. “Oui,” she grins. She turns to Steve. “We’re leaving you,” she informs him, barely concealing her joy. Finally, some time away from Steve.

He looks hurt.“What? Why?”

Robin shrugs. She looks back at Nancy. “Pourquoi?”

Nancy smirks at Steve. “Je veux acheter de la,” she switches to a stage-whisper, “ _lingerie_.” Her voice breaks into a giggle. Robin laughs too.

Steve steps back, looking perfectly happy. “You don’t even have to leave me. I’m going for a walk. I’m leaving _you_. Have fun.” He walks away a couple of paces, then turns back around. “I like lace.”

“You disgust me,” Robin says. “Bye.” Once Steve is gone, she looks at Nancy. “What are we really doing?”

Nancy frowns. “No, I’m serious. I wanna get something cute.” She leans closer—Robin’s heart flutters. “I think tonight’s the night.” She giggles. “Our first time since… more than a year ago, I guess. I want it to be special.”

“Oh,” Robin says, trying to hide her shock. “Well, yeah. Okay. Um… where—”

Nancy grabs Robin’s hand and pulls her along out of the food court. “The ice cream girl told me. There’s a store up at the end. Come on, I need your opinions.”

_You don’t want my opinions_ , Robin thinks, but she goes anyway.

Nancy seems excited as they enter the quiet lingerie store, but it feels like a trap to Robin. She looks at the ground, trying not to stare. She doesn’t want to appear to be _enjoying_ the sight of all these bras. Nancy, on the other hand, happily parses through the collection, _oohing_ and _ahhing_ at whatever she likes.

“Robin,” she says finally. “What do you think?”

Robin tears her eyes from her feet to Nancy, who is holding up something lacy. She quickly fixes her eyes to a spot on the wall just behind Nancy’s head. “Yeah, it’s pretty. Steve would like it.” She smiles weakly.

“Yeah, I think so,” Nancy muses. “I’m going to try it on.”

“Can you do that?”

Nancy nods. “There are change rooms.” She dodges around a couple of tables and slips into a little cubicle, pulling the curtain behind her.

Robin leans against the wall, waiting. She checks her watch. It’s exactly three. She taps her foot on the floor in time to the song playing in the store. It’s slow and probably supposed to be sexy. It just makes Robin uncomfortable.

“It’s good to have you around this time.” Nancy’s voice is muffled through the curtain., but it still startles Robin. “Steve’s different. I think I like him better.” She laughs. “I guess that’s probably thanks to you.”

“Uh, thanks?” Robin says, unsure of what to say to that. She does like that she is what Nancy likes most about Steve. She knows that’s not what Nancy means exactly, but it’s close enough.

“Oh, and I like having you around too!” Nancy says, almost apologetically. “It’s so nice. Since Barb… Well. I haven’t had a girl friend for a long time.”

Robin smiles, glad that Nancy can’t see her. “I’ve never really had a girl friend.”

“Lucky you’ve got me, then,” Nancy says. She pulls the curtain back and sticks her head out. “Okay, quick, come in here and tell me what you think.”

Robin’s eyes widen. “You want me to come in?”

“Yes, come on, I need a girl’s opinion!” Nancy grabs Robin’s hand and pulls her into the change room. “Ta da! What do you think?”

Robin’s eyes flicker away from Nancy’s face, down. It’s pretty. It’s really damn pretty. It’s white and lacy and it fits Nancy really well. Robin bites her lip, then manages to pass it off as thinking. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”

Nancy looks almost disappointed. “Is that it?”

Robin smiles. “No, I really like it. It’s gorgeous. Steve’s a lucky guy.” She tries to laugh. God, why can’t she just be normal? She’s been avoiding looking anywhere but Nancy’s face but now she thinks maybe her gaze is too intense, she doesn’t want to look at Nancy like _that_ but she also doesn’t know how to be casual. How much is a normal amount to look? Is she being creepy? On a scale of one to ten, how terrible of a person is she? Surely she’s north of, like, seven or eight.

Fortunately, Nancy doesn’t seem to notice this conflict going on in Robin’s brain. She seems satisfied with Robin’s answer. “Thanks,” she says, and it sounds like she means it. She looks at herself in the mirror, then meets Robin’s eyes in her reflection. “What about you? Do you want to try anything?”

Robin shrugs. “No one to show it to.”

Nancy raises an eyebrow. “No one? We never talk about this. There’s not even one boy…?” She giggles at Robin’s screwed up nose. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Robin wraps her arms around herself. _Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it_. But what did Nancy say? They swore to be honest. She bites her cheek and then, “I’m not… Boys aren’t really my thing.” She says this to the floor, then musters the courage to look up.

“Oh,” Nancy says. To Robin’s horror, she’s frowning. But then, what else did she expect? Steve was the exception, not the rule. Nancy wraps her arms around herself, suddenly self-conscious, and Robin realises that _of course_ Nancy wouldn’t want her looking at her chest. How could that ever be okay?

“Forget it,” Robin says. “I was kidding.”

“When you said girl friend earlier…” Nancy begins carefully.

“Forget it, alright?” Robin closes her eyes and sighs. What has she done? “Shit. Um, I’m going to go.”

“No, Robin, stay,” Nancy says softly, but Robin knows that this is just her being nice, trying not to make a scene. She doesn’t really mean it—as soon as she can, she’s getting out of here. And why wouldn’t she? What girl would want to spend time with Robin if she knew she was a—

“Don’t, Nance.” Robin shakes her head. “I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Robin, don’t. I just—I don’t—” Her frown deepens. “Are you—”

“Leave it, alright? I’ve heard it before.” Robin is angry, now, because she just wants to rip this off like a bandaid. She likes Nancy, so much, and she’s gone and ruined it. She doesn’t want to hear Nancy’s half-hearted attempts to seem welcoming or whatever. She knows how this ends. Time to get it over with. “I know what you think of me. I get it. I’m—I’m fucking disgusting! Just leave it. I won’t bother you anymore.” She turns around and grabs the curtain, but before she can open it, Nancy grabs her arm.

Robin turns around and stares at her. Nancy looks at Robin, then down at her hand elbow. She lets go quickly, pulling her hand away.

Robin laughs derisively. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Prissy little fucking church girl. Sorry to disappoint you.” She slips out of the changing room and back through the store, her arms crossed tightly. She’s walking fast, half-running, and it takes nearly bowling over a small old lady to realise that her vision is blurred with tears.

There’s a bus that leaves Kerley Mall at three-fifteen. She hops on, pays the driver, and finds an empty seat near the back. She rests her head on the window and watches the surroundings melt away. There’s only her, and this massive mess she’s gotten herself into.

They had a good thing. Why shouldn’t she just keep it? Lie, or better yet, change and become someone different. Someone Nancy would like. Someone everyone would like. She wants to be better. She’s trying so, so hard to be better.

It hasn’t worked yet. She closes her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah. yikes. it's 2:30am and i'm kinda emotional. hopefully you're feeling the angst (maybe you can even relate to robin here? i know i can lmao), and despite that you still liked this chapter!! i'm actually really happy with how it turned out even though i was kind of nervous about it!
> 
> anyway... there are about three more chapters left. obviously, it doesn't end here.


End file.
